Are dreams real or pure fiction?

PROLOGUE
THE PURPOSE of my writing this creative nonfictional composition is to deal with the issue of whether dreams are real or fantasy. Many people believe that they are real in that they reflect the character of the dreamer and have repercussions on him or that they are a foreboding of a realistic future event. This composition elucidates the idea that even though dreams have some relationships to what the dreamer has experienced, dreams by themselves are pure fantasy.
What INFLUENCED my writing this piece was my very own dream. After experiencing such a nightmare, I was deeply motivated in finding insights about dreaming and researching their specific meanings. My classmate, Ryan, discussing about his own dream of being a serial killer, has also given me an inspiration into thinking about dreams. After all, my dream was in similar context with Ryan’s dream – we were both being serial killers.

INTRODUCTION
Brain is simply the most fascinating organ in the body. It is where dreaming occurs. When a person is well into his sleep his eyes start to move rapidly. This stage is known as “Rapid Eye Movement” or “REM sleep” and is where he begins to dream. In a person’s brain, there are systems known as “neural systems.” They function as an ongoing but unaware correlate to those structures that people are aware of during states of consciousness. However, during REM sleep, neural systems have the upper hand and they are not interfered by reality. Hence, dreams have the freedom to transform any prior or possible future experience into phantasmagoria.

ONE NIGHT I HAD A DREAM…
“I have the power of God over this guy, and I am going to kill him.”
This thought overwhelms me late one evening as I approach a teenager in the outskirts of my town’s shopping centre. I feel that this youngster is mocking and ridiculing me. He says nothing, nor does he do anything significant except grinning and making faces. I start getting angry, because I feel very strongly that his grin and facial expressions are his attempts to mock me. As he comes close to me, I hold him firm by his fist and lure him to a deserted side alley. Up to now, he seems to be in a state of shock. Then suddenly, he starts to scream. I chock his scream by forcing my handkerchief into his mouth while gripping his body tight with my left arm. As I am doing this, I notice three adults rushing towards me with stakes in their hands. I feel threatened. I carry the boy and keep winding my way through side streets, making it almost impossible for the three adults to locate me. My ploy succeeds; I do not have them trailing me anymore. Thereafter, I rebuke him:
“You dirty scoundrel! You will pay the penalty for mocking me!” He shakes his head vigorously from left to right probably to indicate that he did not mock me. But I am sure that he certainly did. I confirm this and warn him:
“You are an insignificant creature! I am all powerful! I am God! I am going to take your life!”
With this, I place my two palms around his throat and squeeze his breath out of him until he is stone dead. I feel relieved that I have put an end to the mocking and ridiculing I received late that evening. Later that night, as I am having my dinner, I reflect on my feeling of relief of killing that boy. I felt relieved and not remorseful because I killed the boy who was mocking me and was hurting my pride. My thoughts immediately go back to my father. One night, my mother asked my father:
“Aren’t you sorry for beating your son so violently?”
He retorted:
“No. He disobeyed me and hurt my pride. He deserved to be punished!”
My father behaved as if he was God, so do I. He got away with it. So will I!

Shortly after my confrontation with the teenager, my manager from work, Jason, and I decide to go out to our usual pub. After a bottle of beer, Jason starts to discuss about politics which he believes is a meaningful topic. I hate politics. I try losing eye contact with him as a signal for him to change the topic. Nevertheless, he keeps rambling on about the current crisis. I lost my calm and belligerently retort:
“Screw politics and screw you for liking it!”
Our discussion soon becomes violent as he retorts back saying:
“Who the hell are you to judge me?”
From this moment on, all I want is to kill this ruthless creature. But I notice that our violent argument is under the spotlight. With a cunning plan to kill Jason, I pretend that I am sincerely sorry for my inappropriate conduct; then I convince him that we should go for a walk in the park in order to get some fresh air. As we approach a deserted area, my mood suddenly switches:
“How could you make me look inferior? You cannot overpower me! I am God!” I grab his throat with my two palms and am on the verge of taking his life. However, two of Jason’s mates from the pub suspecting that Jason is in trouble come looking for him. I see them a fair distance from Jason and me. I realise that being confronted with three large men would be too much for me. I quickly start to throttle Jason telling him:
“You cannot stand up against God!”
He immediately tries escaping from my palms locked round his throat, but he soon ran out of breath. Then suddenly, as Jason drops like a stone to the ground, I run away before his friends arrive.

After killing my manager, my thoughts of being superior – being God - are unstoppable. I become fearless of any living creature. I start to enjoy my being God. Then, I decide to try this famous restaurant which is renowned for its lobsters. Lobsters are my favourite dish. Being a well-known restaurant, it charges an exorbitant price for its lobsters. I had only 5 bucks with me. Yet, this does not stop me from experiencing my favourite dish. My meal arrives and my excitement begins to rise. However, as soon I start experiencing the taste of this delicious lobster, I begin to hear a siren. The sirens soon multiply and within seconds I see a significant number of police vehicles completely surrounding the restaurant. I am still unconvinced why the Police are here. Thus, I keep enjoying my meal. Then, three of the Policemen come rushing into to the restaurant and towards my seat yelling out:
“DON’T MOVE! DON’T MOVE!”
I quickly, dart through the back exit via the kitchen. To clear obstacles in my way I topple a serving-man’s tray of food and a trolley of plates, and knock down another man flat to the ground. Along with my thoughts of escaping from the Police, I also begin to wonder how, in such short time, the Police have started their criminal investigations targeting me. Soon, I notice the back exit and a slight grin build in my face thinking that I have succeeded in escaping again. Nevertheless, as I open the door, I am in a state of deep shock when I am confronted by an armed policeman; I never ever – even for a brief moment – thought that I would be overpowered by anyone, let alone being apprehended by the Police. I have nowhere to go. Consequently, this policeman who was outside guarding that exit electrocuted me using his Taser gun. I fall to the ground in defeat. I am so overwhelmingly startled by my realising that after all I am not God. This realisation is unbearable; I start screaming!
Then in a bath of sweat, I wake up…..in my bed…..it was all a horrific nightmare.

EPILOGUE
This nightmare has taught me a lesson. As Shakespeare says in his play Romeo and Juliet, I have learnt that “dreams are begot of nothing but vain fantasy.” Since dreams are the product of fantasising, we should dismiss them without getting scared of them. My nightmare apparently has resulted from the fantasies I had about assuming I am God and killing others, after I read Robert Drewe’s “The Shark Net” in which the theme is the homicides of a serial killer.
Nevertheless, after my nightmare, I felt remorseful. Evidently, even though my experience was “begot of fantasy”, subconsciously, I felt as if I had murderous intentions. Even though I was convinced that dreams are fiction and fantasy, I was inclined to believe that there is some reality in them.
Dreaming of being a serial killer has psychological interpretations. In general, people who encounter such dreams, in reality, are suffering from heavy stress that may lead to losing self-control. This is fairly accurate with my recent lifestyle as I have been suffering from the overwhelming workload in studying medicine. Another significance of dreaming such a nightmare is to give an indication to the dreamer that he has overcome one of his addictions; he has put an end to his former ways of thinking. This is clearly in line with my recent encounters; prior to my dream of being a serial killer I gave up “Facebook” after 2 years of addiction. Hence, from these interpretations, it is certain that what we experience in real life gets immersed in our subconscious mind; dreams indeed make a person realise his recent concerns. Nevertheless, dreams by itself are nothing but pure fiction. (1605 words)