Some people say dreams are a recollection of the past or a prediction of the future. They might even be former memories or die hard desires.

Mine, though, are none of the above. My dreams are weird. Just plain weird.

I go to bed every night and wake up in some foreign land. I’ve tried to make my dreams ordinary. I’ve tried to go to sleep at the same time every night, think about good thoughts, eat healthy. But that just doesn’t work for me.

You know, who would really want to have standard, everyday dreams? I live in exciting adventures and travel all over the world when I am unconscious.

As I lay my head down to sleep, I look forward to my other life. Who knows what I’ll be doing? I have been having strange dreams as long as I can remember. In one of my dreams, I crawled to Africa with my best friend over the mountains and the sea and got there in approximately five minutes.

Another weird one was when my grandparents were chasing me in the grocery story and trying to kill my hamster because it got loose in the lettuce section of produce.

One pretty cool dream was when my dad won a Porsche and our family went for a nighttime drive. It was unfortunate, though, when we drove off a cliff.

I have rarely had a nightmare. One time I was babysitting and these drug addicts came, raided the house and kidnapped the babies. I called the cops but they were at dinner so they decided not to come.

The only remotely scary dream I have ever had was when I fell off of a swing set and broke my body. But I’ve never dreamt about drowning or the boogieman abducting me or any of that nonsense.

When I wake up, I write my dreams down in a notebook. As I look back at it now, I wonder what in the human mind could make me think that way. My dreams have NOTHING to do with reality.

In a way, I think it’s magic. Sleeping is now my favorite part of the day. I get to do things that people would never even dream of doing.