They run wild, and in all their beauty and hideousness they can touch you and hurt you just as much as any reality can, leaving you to make to either disappointment or relief that it is over.
Some people say they reveal hidden desires. Some might, but I would disagree with anyone who says the contents of dreams are limited by anything, that they inherently represent something. The wild of your mind is not limited to the infrastructure you have given it, it is sparked by any inspiration including desire or disgust, fear or hope, images or sounds or scent or passing faces or a word. The imagination is yours, but it is not inherently you.
It is not like a garden or even a maintained forest; it is untouched by decisive hands regardless of how pure their motives would be. It is a wilderness that invites you to get lost in it.
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