When I sleep, I am usually visited by very interesting dreams. It's been like that since I can remember, even when I was just a little girl. I count it as a blessing. At times that life can be monotonous, dull or cruel, dreams can always surprise me and give me a different view of the world. People in your dreams don't expect things to make sense, things will just be as they are. Things just float, scene by scene. In a, you know, dreamy kind of way.

I was once a Rapunzel and one of my cousin climbed up my hair to save me. I think I was five at the time. When I was seven maybe, there was an awfully bad storm and we (my family and I) were trying to row our boat to safety (on cement!), and our then very young (and very small) boy neighbour (he was four) was standing eerily at the gate, blocking our way.

When I was in my early twenties I often dream about being hit and punched by a big black figure. And once, a man in traditional baju melayu (made by very elaborate yellow songket, with head piece and all) insisted on passing something to me, but ended up beating me up too when I refused to receive it. (Man, I am actually a victim of violence in those dreams).

Dreams, they reflect our subconscious mind, no?

When I was growing up, I sometimes get continuous dreams. Not having to wake up early during the holidays, and especially after finishing school and university, I curl up in bed when it's morning, to will myself to fall back to sleep and continue dreaming, because I am often very curious to know how the dreams will end. Heavy curtains, air conditioners, thick blankets. It was a too cozy set-up to wake up.

But most of the times, my mum would enter the room, pull the curtains back to expose the glaring sunlight and nag till my eyes pop open.

And now I wonder, if she was merely waking me up from my sleep or was she waking me up to reality.

Do you want to wake up, dA?