Forgive me, for I've been too exhausted to write extensively, and the same exhaustion applies now. Therefore, I will be a bit briefer in order to preserve the little mental energy reserve that I have. Now, let's begin with what I have to write for now.
Most of my dreams have been weird, but almost in all of them, I was myself, but in different situations. These situations, of course, are fictional, and yet, I feel that I am inclined to believe that these situations exist in different places, and not only in the realm of my subconscious.
Have you heard of the multiverse theory? It is very common in superhero stories, like the ones you may see in D.C, Marvel and the like.
According to this theory, there are basically infinite universes, and each universe contain different versions of things and beings that exist in the original universe, which is ours. If this is true, then there might be infinite Earths, and likewise, infinite versions of me.
I do not know if the multiverse theory is true, because I've never explored an alternative universe outside of my dreams. However, if we are to assume that dreams are, like, portals, to different universes, and are more than mere illusions, then it is probable that the multiverse theory is true.
Take note that our knowledge of dreams is very limited. We do not know for sure why we dream, and even when we are to ask a psychologist to analyse them, there still could be a probability that dreams are utter gibberish, with no greater meaning.
As for myself, I recall being in many, many different versions of this reality in my dreams, hence why I wonder if our subconscious is a portal to different universes. Some of these "universes" have a constant motif, like me living in the same apartment I lived with my mother for most of my life, but alone and with several gaming consoles.
On the contrary, there were dreams where I died, and I never actually returned to these dreams again. As a child I recall my first nightmare, where I fell in the vacuum of space, and I never dreamt of that reality ever again.
In other dreams, I had political power over countries or cities, and in a very particular dream, I've experienced mutual romantic love; the only time in my life where I actually did experience it. I never experienced that unique emotion thus far.
I wish I could know what dreams actually are and why we dream them, but I guess that, as long as we do not know for certain, there's always room for speculation. Due to my own experiences with dreams, my current philosophy on them, is that they allow us access to different universes; universes, whom we wouldn't be able to access otherwise.
I don't know if there are more universes than this one. The universe, after all, is supposed to contain all that there is. However, if there are several, or infinite, universes, then this universe can't be infinite, because there need to be more universes in the vast vacuum of space, for the multiverse theory to be true.
Nonetheless, this universe is ridiculously vast, and I'm uncertain if we as humanity would ever be able to explore it all, like we did with planet Earth. Whether or not we would actually travel to another universe and meet different versions of ourselves and of others, is beyond me.
I still find it strange that I do not return to a "realm" where I die in, in my dreams. There were several times where I was killed in these dreams, and I never found myself in them once more. What does it mean? On the other hand, I do recall returning to the same "universes" where I didn't die in.
Like with actual death, you can't come into the living again, as far as I know, which could indicate that I theoretically did "die" in these "universes". Should I ever return to them, then this speculation would be debunked.
I never actually spoke to a different version of myself in these dreams. Rather, I was myself, but under different circumstances, some of which vary greatly. In some of these dreams, I was tricked by the subconsciousness that I was not dreaming, and in other dreams, I was well aware that I'm not awake. I don't know why my brain allows me to be aware of that, and why it doesn't in other instances. It is all very weird.
In some dreams I was actually a fictional character, but I was still "me", if it makes sense. In my latest dream, I was Darth Vader, but I wasn't Anakin Skywalker, the very person Vader was in Star Wars, but myself, Tomasio. I dreamt that I overthrew the Emperor of the Galactic Empire, defeated the hero which was "my" "son", and crushed the Rebel Alliance.
I guess we usually don't give much attention to our dreams because we don't really return to them like we return to the real world. If we would wake up to different realities, just like when we dream, then these realities might be of little significance to us, because the things we do in these realities, don't matter.
Imagine if you were rich, only to wake up poor, and in a different country, under a different name, with a different job and so on. We give so much meaning to this world because it is the world where we "live" in the most.
This writing exhausted me a bit. It seems that my chronic fatigue begins to "make its way" into the very activity which I believed will never touch. Will it be too late for me? There's no point to think of it now, as long as I can write... I used to be a book worm, but because of this syndrome, I haven't read a book since 2018.
