O' Dreams, Where Art Thou?

Lately my dreams have not been very exciting, in fact, on the contrary. from what i remember of them, they've been pretty boring. they play out like everyday life. i wake up with vague memories of sitting at a restaurant with a friend or sitting on the skytrain even just walking. i used to have such strong, vivid and exciting dreams. nightmares that left me literally gasping for air. my life, although somewhat calmer, doesn't feel like it's particularly complete at the moment. my problems are in the midst of being solved but in no way are they so. i imagine our dreams represent some aspect of our life at that moment or our desires or our fears.

i have a fond memory of a dream i had when i was in my early teens about being this james bond type of character shooting bad guys and making love to beautiful women. pretty standard stuff for a boy during puberty but it was wildly vivid which is why i still remember it. i recall my nightmares more clearly than the dreams. i think we remember our nightmares better because of the affect they have on our psyche. i had this nightmare once about a kid bully chasing me in a forest, stabbing me in the back and spitting on my face when i turned and fell. i woke up right before i died. i had watched "flatliners" not too long before this nightmare and there is a very similar scene in that movie. i saw the obvious connection a few minutes after waking up and left it at that. a couple of years later (post cancer), i dreamt everyone i knew had cancer but me and it was up to me to save everyone. i don't know where the doctors or the rest of the world were at this time. who knows what the hell that means but it definitely left an impression. the scariest one however, was one of all my friends and family on a mission to murder me. hidden knives behind their backs while smiling and inviting me with open arms. i remember the end the best, i was running down a hall in search of the room my mom was sleeping in while various friends, uncles and cousins chased me with bats, swords, knives etc. once i reached my mom's room, she tricked me, she was my most unlikely executor after all! the shock! you had to be there. again i woke up before i died. this was by far the most intense dream i ever experienced. it took me at least 5 minutes after waking to calm down and reassure myself it was just a dream. i was soaked in sweat and was utterly panicked and breathless. everynight after i tried to re-create that dream to no avail, of course. i wanted to feel that intensity and adrenaline again, kind of like a virtual reality slasher video game and im the one being hunted. it was thrilling! it was exhillirating! it was so real! but it was all a product of my mind, which made it more disturbing but also safe. safe enough to re-create.

that was about 4-5 years ago. i've had a few half decent dreams again but nothing ever like that. and now my dreams are so bland they're not worth a second thought except that occasionally i'm with people i don't know or have ever seen. does this mean i've reached some kind of pinnacle in my life? does this mean my life is so great now that i no longer need dreams to spice it up? does this mean i've conquered my devils? have i gone above and beyond? am i enlightened? have my nightmares succumbed to my superior mind set? am i fearless? am i desireless? have i reached nirvana? am i a fucking idiot? is my life so lame that my dreams reflect that? am i so bored? has my life just become so mild?

hardly.... maybe? what gives?