A Dream

I had a dream last night,
It seemed so real, like my eyes were open to sight,
About somehow ending up in another dimension,
To a different place, I had never been,
A place, I could not quite pin.
It was like the world I knew,
But slightly different, too.
It was a dimension where I had never existed,
But when I brought my things, they existed,
As if they were transfered seamlessly,
I had my wallet, therefore my bank account was there,
I had my phone, therefore my notes, bookmarks, and history were there....
But it was different, it was,
It was not entirely like wat I was used to, it was.
It was like the world I grew up in/knew,
But it was slightly more my aesthetic, too.
Strangers were unusually quiet, until they had something to say,
Then they were not afraid, and made a passing joke anyway,
They still made fun of each other a bit,
But it was much kinder, wasn't it?
The insults were uncommon, petty and shallow, and easily resolved,
Not much risk was ever involved.
People used umbrellas with dangling tea-lights all around,
And there were people who hung out in ceiling vents, off of the ground.
Being there was like being invested in the world of a video game,
You could be out in the open, doing/saying things, but it wasn't the same,
You wouldn't feel as vulnerable, or questioning of the truth,
As how the real world made you feel like an unnecessary sleuth.
It was a wonderful place, where I could be on my own,
But I had a family of my own.
I had a place I had to go back to,
And thus, I left, but I came back somehow,
And I didn't want to leave this time,
I tried to stop the woman with me, from taking me back this time,
She told me what to do,
She said all we needed to do,
Was cut the wires in my dad's car,
Which would somehow allow us to hotwire it far,
And we could then travel to my home dimension,
But to her, what I didn't mention,
Was that I didn't want to go home,
I would rather, here, roam.
I hid the delicate, golden, scissors in my pocket,
And kept those feelings in a closet,
And we searched all over for them,
And then in a room with hundreds of hardwood desks, I "found them",
I think she suspected I was lying and always had them,
But she didn't say anything, and we continued on,
I've always liked the idea of a movie/book character running on
Far away from their destiny,
From what the writers wanted to be,
If they were supposed to fall in love with someone,
They would run away from them, and they've won,
Rather have that slight sadness for a long time,
That ends up fading when they heal from time,
And forget what could've been.
If they were supposed to take a new job, or save the world,
In their head, ideas would've swirled,
And they would instead not, and pretend it didn't/wasn't happening,
I think in the dream, that was manifesting.
Eventually we got into a car together, and I leaned over the backseat,
And leaned towards her seat,
I apologized for not finding the scissors sooner,
I told her how I didn't want to go home, and thus made the blooper
Of hiding the scissors until I could no longer contain the guilt,
Like being stabbed on a sword, up to the hilt.
I told her how I'd always be having dreams about running
The length of a house and-a-half down a street
Or on the sidewalk next to a field, as fast as I can on my feet,
Then stop, turn around, and head back,
Back to the family that cares about me,
The family that would worry about me,
I couldn't suddenly be gone,
That was very wrong.
I told her about a large portion of my real dreams,
Not something made up for this or other dreams.
Suddenly I woke up, before she could answer,
I cried, I wanted to stay there, but I knew what would be her answer,
I was heartbroken to say the least,
I wanted to live and work there, until the day I was deceased,
I knew she would say "no", "no way", "nada",
And thus I ponder, what drama
Caused this dream?
My neurons fired like a work team,
Was it my brain saying to become more independent?
Wanting me to become more confident?
My dad had a cousin who much preferred life on the streets,
As opposed to comfortable sheets, and seats,
Was this something in my family, like a runaway gene?
Not that I'd ever do anything, but that has yet to be seen.