Last night I had this wild dream about aliens, woke up sweating and my heart pounding like crazy. Figured there must be something to it, so I decided to dig into the spiritual meaning today. Grabbed my notebook right there in bed, still half-asleep, scribbling down everything I could remember before it vanished.
First thing after coffee? Googled “dreaming about aliens meaning.” Got a whole pile of stuff popping up. Some sites said it meant I was feeling disconnected from people around me. Others shouted about big life changes coming. Found this one forum where folks were dead serious about aliens being spiritual messengers warning humanity. Honestly? Felt like reading pure junk half the time.
My Morning Deep Dive (and Reality Check)
Took my shaky notes and tried to match ’em up with what the internet was yelling about:
- Seeing weird lights? Supposedly means confusion in real life. Yeah, maybe… bills are stressing me out.
- Talking to a grey alien? Symbolizes feeling misunderstood. Felt that way last week arguing with my sister.
- Getting probed? (Ugh) One site swore this meant fear of losing control. Laughed out loud at that one, spilled my tea.
Felt kinda dumb staring at my messy notes. My stupid cat jumped on the table, knocked over my water glass onto the notebook. Papers soaked, ink running everywhere. Great. Symbolic of my whole “research” going down the drain? Maybe. Mostly just annoying.
When Chores Crush Spiritual Insights
Tried to meditate about the dream later. Sat cross-legged on my worn-out yoga mat. Closed my eyes. Tried to picture that strange ship again… Focused on how it felt. Cold light. Humming sound. That weird stillness.
Then my stomach growled. Loud. Remembered I forgot to eat lunch. Meditation session officially over. Threw together a sandwich instead.
Walked to the park in the afternoon, hoping nature would spark some deep alien wisdom. Watched ducks fight over bread. Listened to some kids yelling. Saw the sunset painting the sky orange and pink. Felt calm, sure. But deep cosmic messages about extraterrestrial encounters? Nah. Just… quiet.
Putting This Crazy Idea to Bed
Sat on my porch tonight looking at the stars. Thought about that dream one last time. Felt less freaky now. Took my soggy, half-ruined notebook. Wrote this down at the bottom:
“Maybe aliens just mean my brain is full of junk. Work stress. Family stuff. Worrying too much. Brain throwing weird pictures together while I sleep. No grand message needed. Just… life.”
Laughed a little. Felt better just writing that honestly. Closed the notebook. Went inside to finally wash the dishes.
Sometimes the meaning isn’t written in the stars or whispered by little green men. Sometimes it’s just scribbled on a damp page after a weird night. Onto the next thing. Probably laundry. Definitely less mysterious.
