“I typically didn't remember my dreams at that age. When I started college, my roommate was all about studying the meaning of dreams. The “Gateway to the Subconscious” was a club she had that held its meetings in my dorm room. I hung around with them more out of boredom than any real interest, and because they always brought weed with them. I just couldn't get into the dream stuff, though. To me it was all just a messy filing system that organized the days events and occasionally it hiccuped. St...ill, this one hiccup stayed with me for some reason. I never gave it much thought until recently. I floated through this endless hallway, or maybe fell, I wasn't sure. Doorways that led to different paths that my life could take, closed on the right and left as I reached them. I was able to catch the briefest glimpse into each one just before the way was shut. The rooms were lush. Full of color, life and warmth, but somehow they seemed alien to me. As if they were a painting of a memory. Deep within each room there was a distant form beckoning me.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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