Once upon a time I thought that I was a bird flying through the sky.

And then I realised that I'd just dreamt it. But once I realised that I was able to control my dreams, I decided to fly whenever it occurred to me that I was asleep. I would fly over my Grandma's house, I would start running as fast as I could and my arms would reach out beside me and I would just run up and up and up and there I was, able to fly anywhere. Able to see above all that was happening and with no fear, not even the smallest possible fear of falling. Absolute confidence in my ability to go anywhere and do anything.

And now I know that it's possible to me in my dreams, it makes it all the harder when I realise that I've purposely grounded myself in real life. That I have squandered so many years and have not flown at all, not really. Only in half-hearted, passive-aggressive ways that have only led me closer to a complete and utter disinterest in my future years.

But I know that when I fall asleep, the boundless universe awaits me. I can be anyone, do anything, be anything, do anyone. In my dreams, I am anything possible. I always hope that I'll never dream of doing the dishes again. Housework dreams suck octopus tentacles.