I haven't dreamed in almost a year. Mine were always the same though. Staircases to nowhere, unending mazes, a feeling of searching for something intangible in a colorless world. And then, in one dream, I actually found what I was looking for, and I destroyed it. I haven't dreamed since then, and, in a way, I wish I had never found it.

that feeling when you wake of having been looking for something isn't so bad. it's the knowledge that you didn't find it.