I don't know about you, but I think that dreams mean something. And I don't just mean the dreams where I'm pregnant or the dreams where I give birth to a pound of cheddar cheese, though I'm sure these dreams are meaningful in some way too. My guess is that I have probably eaten too much cheese before bedtime.
But I mean the dreams where someone comes back to you. The ones where a dead friend or father finds his way back to a space where you used to live, and you get one more chance to eat lunch together.
I could never believe that dreams are your brain's way of "defragmenting." I don't believe, after waking up and blinking away the most unbelievable pink and purple sky, that dreaming is a way for us to jettison the things we don't need to make room for anymore.
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