Dreams... Are My Reality

I've been having loads of weird dreams lately. I can still remember them even to the smallest details. Like, the color of the broom I used to sweep dirty corners (blue), the clothes that my belated paternal grandpa wore when he tried to sweep the floor earlier (grey sarung and blue shirt), the pattern of the tiles (kinda hard to describe), the look on my twin brother's face when we talked, the sound of a ghost's laugh, the way the ghost's eyes sparkle (golden silverish white) when she expressed her wish.

They seemed to convey important messages. My belated grandpa wanted me to do something. And I did. He smiled in approval. The beautiful ghost was so forlorn, yet she bestowed me her sweetest smiles. She wanted me to carve her a tombstone. But before that, she wanted me to join her for a while in the realms of the ghost. I did. It was eerie yet wonderful at the same time, looking from the perspective of a ghost. My twin brother, my angel, soothed me with words I couldn't remember.

I'm wide awake now. Yet I long to dream...