I am small, on a tricycle, cycling around th carpark in th dark of night, all alone, strangely unafraid as I discover strange things at every corner, a shadow trailing me as I meander through all th corners.

I am medium, walking on a crowded street, looking for something I didn't know, just pushing through th crowd, and finally found it, my brother and father, by this shop, looking at a single man in blue shirt, big, black and bald, yet somehow familiar. My dad's excited, saying 'its him! its him!' He turns, and he smiles, his eyes a glint that is so familiar it immediately connects. A sigh of relief and we just watch as he disappears into th crowd, his size an illusion in this fog of life. My wallet slips out and a single coin rolls out awkwardly on th floor, suddenly an empty circle, I pick it up.

I am large, in a crowded mosque, taking off my shoes and taking ablution when I suddenly realized I'm just wearing shorts. Weird, I clearly remembered wearing long pants, and I start to search for it, but is unable to find it. I panic and call out to my friends. Suddenly, we're in taxi and I'm wearing long pants, there is a lady, a mother of one of my friends, th taxi driver makes a turn and we wonder where we're going. He points out this mosque, not th one we're from and we just accept it. Th mosque reverberates a strange vibe, I knew theres something wrong, I recognize the mosque, and asks my friend if I'm right, I am. Its a strange mosque, but we had to attend prayers which was starting soon, and we just went ahead. The taxi driver parks th taxi in front of an alley, with an archway which was strangely ancient with mold and signs of erosion, and under a large shadow which is from an unknown source.

Then I woke up. Tiring.
Seemingly a random dream, but these kinda long and vivid dreams usually aren't. Somewhere in that mess, is a message for me, for something I've done.