Thursday, November 03, 2005
Dreams
I haven't dreamt in a long while. Sometimes, reading other people's dreams online (have you noticed how often people write about their dreams... and how rarely they speak about them?) I can't help but feel a tinge of envy.
I think I've forgotten how to dream - or perhaps my subconscious purges them from memory before I wake.
When I was younger I did use to dream; sometimes I had trouble falling asleep, and I'd imagine myself lying flat on my back on a large circular stone slab, rotating through the depths of space. (I was very young at the time) It made for some strange dreams.
Sometimes I dreamt up inventions, and when I woke I'd draw them down, driven by a sense of urgency not to forget. Once I actually built one of them, and was surprised when it worked.
When I grew older I'd try to fall myself to sleep... falling through nothingness, just falling downwards... until... I fell asleep.
Sometimes I closed my eyes really tight - have you tried that? There's an almost half-light when you do that, a very dim light inside your head, almost as if you're somewhere primal. Sometimes I saw shifting shadows in the darkness, and a sky... and for some reason it always felt like I was in a cave. It had an almost prehistoric feel to it. That gave me a few odd dreams too. Mainly of running away from big scary things with teeth.
Once, much later, I met a girl who did it too... that was rather odd. She was much younger than myself, but we had a few things in common including favourite ice-cream flavours, birthdays a few days apart, and this one dream. Oh there was a major difference though, she was very, very, very pretty. And I am not. haha.
Then there were other dreams as I grew older.
Often they were simple dreams, just the two of us sitting - on benches, on a bed, across from each other at a table - many, many different places, just talking and laughing. Looking into Her eyes, and laughing.
They were good dreams that had me smiling when I woke. But they made me ache inside when the realisation returned that She wasn't really there... but in truth, a few thousand miles away.
Some of them were before that rather odd year when things were... peculiar; many during, and a few after. The dreams began to die, in the Aftermath.
A few of them are particularly memorable.
*****
We were at home - my home, sitting on the bed next to each other talking.
It became time for you to go... time to go back to that other world.
You stood up, and Your eyes were sad. I haveto go, you said.
I walked you out the front door, and down the drive to the main street.
As we walked I looked at you, committing you to memory. I noticed in the background a small crack in the white brick of one of the gate pillars, with a vine growing in it.
And then I stopped, and you continued walking down the road towards the sunset.
When I woke up I got dressed for school, and waited for my mum to warm up the car. And I walked up to the pillar on a whim.
And there was a small crack in it, with a vine nestled within.
It was a strange feeling.
*****
You were a tall presence by my side, and I knew it was You. We were walking.
We walked side by side through a seedy motel lobby towards the grinning uncle at the concierge counter.
We stepped around him without breaking stride through a door and suddenly we were in a hawker centre walking past singleted bald uncles drinking their twenty cent coffees.
We threaded our way through the crowds, and through a street market, I think.
And then we were walking through a truly vast (vast) airplane hangar, only there was sunlight all around us. I think either there was a skylight in the ceiling, or perhaps the sun was actually suspended from the ceiling, miles above our heads.
A fine rain began to fall and it caught the sunlight, transforming the air within the hangar into a soft golden mist.
We walked towards the gigantic gaping maw of the entryway, filled with blinding light streaming in from outside.
Some years later as we meandered through Your city in quest for dinner, I was reminded of the dream. It had felt like this.
I think I've forgotten how to dream - or perhaps my subconscious purges them from memory before I wake.
When I was younger I did use to dream; sometimes I had trouble falling asleep, and I'd imagine myself lying flat on my back on a large circular stone slab, rotating through the depths of space. (I was very young at the time) It made for some strange dreams.
Sometimes I dreamt up inventions, and when I woke I'd draw them down, driven by a sense of urgency not to forget. Once I actually built one of them, and was surprised when it worked.
When I grew older I'd try to fall myself to sleep... falling through nothingness, just falling downwards... until... I fell asleep.
Sometimes I closed my eyes really tight - have you tried that? There's an almost half-light when you do that, a very dim light inside your head, almost as if you're somewhere primal. Sometimes I saw shifting shadows in the darkness, and a sky... and for some reason it always felt like I was in a cave. It had an almost prehistoric feel to it. That gave me a few odd dreams too. Mainly of running away from big scary things with teeth.
Once, much later, I met a girl who did it too... that was rather odd. She was much younger than myself, but we had a few things in common including favourite ice-cream flavours, birthdays a few days apart, and this one dream. Oh there was a major difference though, she was very, very, very pretty. And I am not. haha.
Then there were other dreams as I grew older.
Often they were simple dreams, just the two of us sitting - on benches, on a bed, across from each other at a table - many, many different places, just talking and laughing. Looking into Her eyes, and laughing.
They were good dreams that had me smiling when I woke. But they made me ache inside when the realisation returned that She wasn't really there... but in truth, a few thousand miles away.
Some of them were before that rather odd year when things were... peculiar; many during, and a few after. The dreams began to die, in the Aftermath.
A few of them are particularly memorable.
*****
We were at home - my home, sitting on the bed next to each other talking.
It became time for you to go... time to go back to that other world.
You stood up, and Your eyes were sad. I haveto go, you said.
I walked you out the front door, and down the drive to the main street.
As we walked I looked at you, committing you to memory. I noticed in the background a small crack in the white brick of one of the gate pillars, with a vine growing in it.
And then I stopped, and you continued walking down the road towards the sunset.
When I woke up I got dressed for school, and waited for my mum to warm up the car. And I walked up to the pillar on a whim.
And there was a small crack in it, with a vine nestled within.
It was a strange feeling.
*****
You were a tall presence by my side, and I knew it was You. We were walking.
We walked side by side through a seedy motel lobby towards the grinning uncle at the concierge counter.
We stepped around him without breaking stride through a door and suddenly we were in a hawker centre walking past singleted bald uncles drinking their twenty cent coffees.
We threaded our way through the crowds, and through a street market, I think.
And then we were walking through a truly vast (vast) airplane hangar, only there was sunlight all around us. I think either there was a skylight in the ceiling, or perhaps the sun was actually suspended from the ceiling, miles above our heads.
A fine rain began to fall and it caught the sunlight, transforming the air within the hangar into a soft golden mist.
We walked towards the gigantic gaping maw of the entryway, filled with blinding light streaming in from outside.
Some years later as we meandered through Your city in quest for dinner, I was reminded of the dream. It had felt like this.
