Sometimes, I like to imagine that human dreams are akin to a well-crafted sci-fi film, where individuals are encapsulated in incubators, oblivious to their physical state, while experiencing a fabricated life. Consider it: this isn’t so different from our complex human bodies achieving muscle atonia during REM (Rapid Eye Movement) sleep. Completely paralyzed, we dream, living in a world where our minds, and the influences within them, manifest as fictitious scenes while we lie motionless in the dark.
I suppose that’s where screenwriters draw inspiration for thought-provoking films. We resist the notion of ourselves as creatures enslaved, forced into a world we perceive as reality. The key distinction is our ability to awaken from these imagined capsules, returning to what we deem “real,” even while secretly wishing we could re-enter those fabricated lives.
Dreaming is a form of healing, a kind of free therapy. We require rest for survival and for our bodily cells to function correctly. Whether we recall our dreams or not, we all dream. Imagine, in those dreams, the person who said ‘I love you’ truly meaning it, even outside the confines of our ‘capsule-world.
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