Dreams of Battle

Last night I was a warrior.  I went to sleep in my bed, and woke up in Ancient Mesopotamia.  I fought battles side by side with a man I called my brother, and eventually we became two generals in a great army.  We were friends, and equally vicious on the battle field.  Eventually, we became the leaders of our own armies.  And somehow,  became enemies.  The end of the dream was my sword through his belly and a knife through his jaw into his brain.  I died of heartache after.  And woke up.

I have heard that people with ADD and ADHD are very creative, but have never been able to tap into my creative side, except when I sleep.  I have amazingly detailed dreams.  They are sometimes funny.  Sometimes sad.  I have had horrific dreams of my children dying, and unsettling dreams of flying.  Dreams of love, dreams of anger.  My dreams are almost always gone from my memory within a few minutes of waking up.   But sometimes the images stick with me, like the death of my fellow soldier, and seeing myself as though from the viewpoint of a different person, letting go in sorrow, dying alone with my best friend and enemy.  In the time it took me to write this, all the other images of the dream are gone from my mind.  That creativity has gone dormant again, and so it is time to go back to bed and wake it.