The setting is always different, and so are the characters. It usually just seems like any other random, unpredictable nonsensical dream about a series of events that don’t make sense when conjoined together (as most of my dreams are) until it happens.

I start to lose my teeth.

The way this occurrence fleshes out is often identical: I feel my teeth (plural, not singular tooth) moving around in my mouth, loose and falling out and start to freak out. Sometimes they stay in my mouth, dangling from my gums but sometimes I spit them out onto my palm, staring at them in horror.

Last night’s dream saw me at an empty dystopian Alan Gilbert Learning Commons trying to search for something when I felt the upper right row of my teeth wobble before one of my bottom right molars came right off.

The worst part of it was how vivid and real the dream felt. I could feel the pain in my mouth as if it was really happening to me. The yanking strain in my gums that throbbed in sync with my heartbeat. The metallic taste of blood on my tongue. The confusion and fear as to why am I losing so many of my teeth? I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had dreams like this but each time, the anxiety of it happening doesn’t seem to subside from the previous ones.

Last night was the second time this week and 438973829542th time overall in my lifetime’s history of dreams that I’d dreamt of my teeth falling out.

Published by

Michelle Teoh

26-year-old cynical Asian, book enthusiast and purveyor of fine sarcasm.

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