Why I Love Nightmares

I used to think I loved nightmares because of the story ideas they gave me.  Now, there were some nightmares I loathed, but for the most part I enjoyed them.  This, of course, led to a serious inner-debate titled, "If I Love Having Nightmares, Can They Be Called Nightmares?"  The answer was: Yes.  They could be nightmares, and I could enjoy the hell out of them.

Last night, that all changed.  Waking up, I had a new reason why I loved nightmares.  It had nothing to do with the story ideas.  Nothing.  Zip.  Nada.

I woke up feeling refreshed.  This is, sadly, not natural as of late. I woke up feeling absolutely giddy with happiness.  And it was all due to a dream I had been having.  What this dream was is of no interest to most people, so I will skip it.  It was wonderful, though.

And then real life sank in.  I realized the dream was a dream, and it wasn't reality.  These things I experienced in sleep were complete fabrications.  And that is why I love nightmares.

Good dreams, pleasant dreams -- they fool you.  Those moments of bliss are manufactured and are as mentally deflating as finding out those medical test results are worse than suspected.  They are the hot girl that flirts with you and then you find out it's because she had a bet with her friends.  Good dreams are a joke.  Nightmares don't lie.

Nightmares seemed designed by nature to scare you.  You don't want them to be real.  You want them to be gone.  When you wake up, you are relieved that what you experienced isn't real life.  You are thankful and grateful.  You are humbled.  Nightmares don't pretend to give you hope.  They don't flirt with you.  They assault you and make sure you know it.  Nightmares don't trick your soul.  Nightmares are the sharks of the subconscious.  I respect that.  I respect that a lot.  I don't respect the made up reality I went through this morning before waking up to face a lie.  How could I?

I used to not care when people said they loved having these good dreams that had nothing to do with real life.  I didn't care because I figured they were just dreams, and what harm was there in having them or even having the desire to have them?  Now I know these people are delusional.  They are being fooled, and they like it.  They are cashing in on a momentary bliss built on a foundation of clouds.  Better them than me.  I don't want that "reality."  I want the truth or something so terrifying it makes me thankful for the life I lead.  Anything else is unacceptable ... even if it produces a momentary bliss.

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