Living Life The Good Way | By : GothicalWishes Category: My Chemical Romance > General Views: 1329 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of My Chemical Romance. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
There are many explanations which attempt to clarify the phenomenon of dreams. Freud said that all objects within our dreams were symbolic. Each object was a materialisation of an unconscious thought we could neither understand nor fathom. He created a list of items and their phallic counterparts, showing the unconscious sex drive we all have.
Another said that our dreams were random. That every time we saw an object a random pattern of neurons was fired and recognised the object as what it was as we had learnt though our own schemas or perception of the object. At night when we sleep neurons remained active, and it was this random firing of neurons which, when fired to create the pattern of an object we know, would create the content and objects within our dream. However, he didn’t stop there. He continued to state that because we, as human beings, are logical creatures, we create the scenarios and situations in which these objects are placed; and our interaction with them, thus a dream is born.
Gerard never knew which of the explanations he liked best. He couldn’t know whether it was better for his dreams to be the portrayal of his deepest desires, or the random firing of neurons, creating people and places, his own logical mind inserting, essentially, a plot to connect himself with them. All he knew was that if he didn’t dream, Gerard didn’t think he would still be alive.
In his dreams Gerard was perfect. He was all he could imagine himself to be, handsome, clever, talented, all to an extent which surpassed his own qualities. In his dreams he had everything he could ever ask for. He had everything he spent his days wishing he could have.
In life, Gerard had many reasons to give up. His heart was in so many places he often wondered whether it would stop beating of its own accord. It belonged to the man who spread public word of how much he hated Gerard: the one whose pictures were strewn across magazine pages, mocking his every move. It belonged to the brother who would never forgive, nor understand the reason why Gerard had tried to kiss him that night when he was only nineteen; the act having been long since forgiven would never be forgotten. It belonged also, to the lover who had promised Gerard eternal faith and eternal love, before he disappeared one night to return with a fiancée.
Yes, sometimes Gerard was close to letting go and only one thing could stop him. When Gerard went to sleep he was perfect and so was his life. He had Bert, Frankie and Mikey and they had him.
When his eyes closed, the real world disappeared, and Gerard could continue living life the good way.
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