Every dream is a constant reminder of the past, present and future based on personal experience. In these dreams there is an inherent recollection of every exposure, intimacy and savoir-faire of a person. Whether they are young or old, male, female or in between - it doesn't matter.
I used to remember my dreams, and in those most lucid moments I could pick out my own timeline as though it was written on a chart. Here I was born, and over here I cried, and here I laughed, loved, kissed, ran away and returned.
Dreams are abstract documentaries on your psyche, and a cross section of your own longevity.
Where do I stand at these crossroads? In what direction do I point myself? When does past, present and future become one? Or does it choose to remain fully hidden under psychosis or under one's unwillingness to remember?