Anyway, my dreams can potentially hold the light. In fact, my most recent dream -- not two hours ago -- held quite an amazing light. I was in Utah Valley again, on a Sunday morning. Early, early, early. Before sunrise. The house I was in was a combination of my aunt's and another person's, and it had a lot of windows; it had no choice but to be transparent, for the light outside.
The sunrise was glowing. It wasn't just an idle...bleh. It was a blast. Boom. Popped with dark red and dark orange, with flares and flanges of orange and yellow on the edges of towering clouds. It illuminated the entire east sky, not just a tiny, tiny part that most sunrises do with the hint of a tiny globe somewhere behind it. No; imagine that the sun was 1000 times its size, and it was deciding to peek over the mountains on the valley.
Then it went dark again. It faded out. But I willed it back (remember my post about lucid dreaming?) in all its fiery intensity.
I automatically thought of a John Mayer song called 3x5.
A friend of mine was still sleeping below, in the not-basement-but-it-was. My mind skipped ground floor somewhere between the top floor where I was and the basement where my friend was.
I started to look for my camera, but that's when I realized that it's impossible to have cameras in your dreams. It's probably like a fail-safe for our minds, so we can't ever remember a dream exactly. It's too bad. I woke up because my camera really is lost in this real world.
And anyway, You should have seen that sunrise with your own eyes.
Have I ever mentioned that John Mayer is an amazing song writer? He has songs for everything, practically. It's relate-able music and lyrics. At high school graduation, he has songs for the nostalgia (No Such Thing), when you're driving on the freeway and don't want to go home yet, Why Georgia sums it up well. For my dreams that I don't want, Dreaming With a Broken Heart sympathizes. Change: Stop This Train.
It goes on and on.
Go listen to every John Mayer song and relate a bit. I have.