Why do we dream?

When I was in my third year I used to date this boy from the Psychology Department at school, even though he turned out to be a huge j*rk he knew how to have good conversations. 

One day, he told me that dreams are just sensations, ideas, emotions and images that happen involuntarily in the mind when we sleep. 

He mentioned someone famous in that field, I think his name is Freud or something, who said that dreams are manifestations of our deepest desires or anxieties relating to either repressed childhood memories or obessions. 

So one would think that dreams aren't really real if they're something that the mind just conjures up while we're sleeping, I mean, some people might remember what they had dreamt about in the night; but since it's just our mind playing tricks on us, then ultimately it's not real. 

But then why do people pair the word aspirations with the word dream? 

If I go to bed one night and dream that I'm flying on a dragon then wake up and actually make it my goal to fly on a dragon then I would be considered as a crazy person. 

But what if I had a dream that I won the Noble Peace Prize, then woke up with the aspiration of winning such prize? 

I wouldn't be considered as a crazy person then would I? 

So, I guess our aspirations stem from our dreams, well the realistic ones of course. 

The dreams I've been having lately are about my aspirations, my boyfriend, and a total different reality where I'm not a Choi but a Bang. 

"Again." 

If I hear him utter that word one more time I might just have a nosebleed. 

"Again." 

Oh how I wish I was anywhere but here. 

"Stop." 

I place my bow down with a heavy sigh, my invitation for the symposium in New York arrived in the mail on Friday. It was my Dad who found it and ever since then he has me practicing my solo piece. 

I feel like I'm dying, he chose Xenakis' Nomos Alpha for me to perform, and every cellist that I know have dubbed it the 'score from hell'. I've only ever played it once, I was eighteen and it was in one of my classes, but I wasn't alone back then, I had played it with two other people. 

To be honest, this piece is not your ordinary score, if you're not into classical music then you'd probably say that it's not music but noise. Nomos Alpha is one of the most difficult pieces ever written, and according to my Dad, it hasn't been performed at the symposium in over twenty-years. 

So why the h*ll is he making me do it then?

"Where is your mind Mi Na-ah? You have to focus in order to perform this piece, remember that your chin should also be included when playing. Do you want to be the laughing stock of the entire symposium?"

I sigh, "no Father. It's just that we've been practicing since I woke up, it's now five in the evening. I'm a bit tired, that's all." 

He grunts in response but doesn't say anything, my phone however, decides to buzz in that very moment of brief silence. The incessant buzzing doesn't stop so I know that it's a call, not a text. 

"It would be nice if you could tell your friends not to interrup