I dreamt of torrential rain in the twilight of evening, and I was standing outside very willingly drenched. The air felt thick and warm, therefore being soaking wet felt like a non issue. When was the last time anyone simply stood in the rain and felt it envelope their entire being? Are we so opposed to feeling primal in nature? I am sure there is an evolutionary explanation for this, so I shall continue. As I stood there I felt deep within my body a rumble I did not realize was thunder until a flash of light caught the corner of my eye. The vibration stayed with me until it settled into my heart. I became frightened then, worried I may have been struck by lightning and this was all a damp in-between state of consciousness (which it very well was as it is a dream to begin with), so I calmly walked inside my home that did not look like my home, but it must have been because my loved ones were looking at me with concern. I closed the door behind me and looked through the window to a scene I was not expecting. Off in the distance, three violent swirling pillars of gray carrying with them dust and debris were dancing around one another. My body suddenly felt cold. I glanced down at my hands that now felt stiff and numb. I raised them in front of me, level with my eyes to get a better look as I could not believe it. The tips of my fingers were purple almost to the point of total blackness. I had not realized how long I was standing outside in the rain, nor how piercingly cold it turned in an instant. When I was outside life seemed so peaceful and soft. I wanted to go back, but the danger was too real for me to risk changing things back to how they were. Here is where the dream becomes too hazy to remember. I only remember feeling dread and thinking to myself how quickly things could change from serene to apocalyptic. When I finally woke I was confused to see a bright day shining through my bedroom window, the azure sky radiant without a single cloud obscuring it. No rain had come here, clearly. No tornados. My confusion turned to relief, yet there was a minuscule fear creeping into my mind that perhaps the dream was a premonition. How could my dream and waking life be so intensely dichotomized if not to show me something?