I was never the creative one. My older brother, Nick, was the type of kid who collected a bunch of random Lego pieces and built whatever came to mind. At such a young age, he was able to construct complex buildings basically out of thin air. Occasionally, I wanted to join him, but by the end of it, I usually came out frustrated at my strange looking designs.
He dreamt all the time, too, explaining to me every morning the adventures he had in deep sleep. My dreams were not intriguing and forgettable compared to his, and some mornings it felt like I hadn’t dreamt at all. Today, however, I dream about all kinds of things. From a dream about being in a cult with my cousins to a dream about grudgingly taking a hard math exam, I’ve felt ranges of emotions from my dreams. To help me relax right before bed, I daydream just about everything.
Mostly, I like to imagine myself in the future. A day where I wake up at 7 a.m. in a college dorm without my parents nagging at me to get up and eating a bagel and getting dressed for class. Earlier this year, I did not want to think about leaving all my current friends or entering a completely new environment, yet I somehow find comfort in the future while being nervous for college life.
In school, I never catch myself daydreaming when I’m bored about a lesson; rather, I mostly stare off into space thinking about nothing. Having said that, when my eyelids start to feel heavy, I tend to daydream about my favorite stuff in the world to keep myself awake. My analysis on the most recent Grey’s Anatomy episode, current favorite video game and predictions about the 2021 Tokyo Olympic games are the main ways I stay awake in class.
I like to believe all my dreaming is a positive aspect of my life, for it gives me the opportunity to be the creative one. It does hold me back in the sense that I am occasionally unfocused during school, but as long as my six-year-old self is proud that I am able to remember my dreams, I’m okay with it.