Saturday, 16 March 2013

Journey in dreams

Somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness is a place where I like to hide and gather new ideas. In-between being awake and being asleep is a place where you can live without hurting anyone, everything is allowed, everything your brain makes up and sometimes it tries to trick you into believing it is actually real. Lucid dreaming would be the most appropriate term for it.

“A lucid dream is any dream in which one is aware that one is dreaming. The dreamer can exert some degree of control over their participation within the dream or be able to manipulate their imaginary experiences in the dream environment.”

In a dream I can be aware that I am dreaming, but if I take control of the dream, I wake up soon after. It happened once, that I was aware of my sleeping body, of my breathing and moving, and at the same time I was aware that I was also dreaming and it felt like remembering a very old memory, hidden somewhere far away.

“A hallucination is a perception in the absence of a stimulus which has qualities of real perception. Hallucinations are vivid, substantial, and located in external objective space. They are distinguished from the related phenomena of dreaming, which does not involve wakefulness.”

It happened twice, that I suddenly woke up during the night, lifted my upper body in surprise to see someone in the room. Not a person, something more like a ghost. The first time I only saw a face. The second time a silhouette. In both cases, when they realized that I saw them, they looked me in the eyes and I literally fell back into bed and slept the rest of the night. Now, that was quite a long time ago, and I kind of wish it would happen again. I like to travel in my own brain, I guess.


Few years ago, I started writing down the experience which I remembered from dreams. I kind of stopped in the middle of it all, and devoted myself more to poetry and another story that I’m working on. But here are some parts of that Journey in dreams:

 Part I.

Found myself sitting on the road, in the middle of the darkness, breathless. I knew I had someplace else to be, and things that had to be done, but nothing could've pulled me back from where I was at that particular moment. Road-side turned into orange burning candles, tall and graceful, like they owned the night. Fog crawled from the stream, covering the sight into a grainy tunnel of lights. Then the night breeze glided through the flames while the stream by the road murmured in stillness of the sleeping land.

There were times that I wanted to die, and start a life all over again. Rewind the tape and start recording some other story. Reasons came out from despair, hopelessness and mainly shame. Seems as the weight on my shoulders was too heavy to carry; my back bent. I certainly didn’t like the thought of carrying it forever. As I sat there in the cold breezy night, I wanted to die, just to carry that feeling inside me, forever. Take that night with me. No will to go back or forth, only a wish to breathe that moment for as long as I would appreciate it.

Part III.

The birthing was prolonged; everyone in the room was anticipating the end of it. The head was showing, it kept getting bigger and bigger. Baby started to push down the birth canal, head seconds away from crowning. My arm had no strength anymore, and in a glimpse the creature flew out, hit the wall, bumped his head and walked. Now, how could a baby do that? Well, this wasn’t an ordinary baby; its legs and arms were long and strong, the body was the height of a first grade schoolboy. Should be send to the school immediately.

Some children get robbed of their childhood too soon.
Part IV.

There are just a few lives that I’ve lived and remember.

The world war made everything turn grey. The fog got everywhere and you couldn’t outrun the smell of death. I was walking on somewhat empty street in early evening. My serious expression turned pleasant when I recognized a face that was coming from the right. Soon I got confused by the hateful manner I was being looked at. Within seconds he pulled out his gun and shot without hesitation. Bullet pierced through my neck; and as I was falling down backwards I kept thinking “Why?” Then it all went black. My throat was never the same again. Just like that we’re forced to leave, unwanted guests.

My eyes were closed; felt the heat and dry land, but there was something fresh about it, in the evening time. Chanting was heard, I recognized the words but they have no meaning to me now. I opened my eyelids slowly, the landscape of the desert appeared. I was standing on a cliff; the crowd of people below, all turned the same way, all bowing to the sun. Was I the leader of those people or not, doesn’t matter. We praised the sun for its good deeds. Now the image which we praise has changed a bit; the same image praised over and over by differently named religions. In truth; the only church is under the wide open sky.

 Part VI.

I stood where it felt like familiar ground, a safe house on this mad ship. I stood there watching the waterscape, millions of small islands on the surface, like a long back of a dragon, just peaking out. The earth below my heart moved, but my eyes didn't produce a tear. But the feeling of wrong-doing washed me over. The innocence and purity of the view killed the very thought of pride in what I did. It's true that the winners will write down the lines of history. Some will seek theories of conspiracy. But the truth lies in the last breath of the dead ones. Honestly, it probably isn't what we make it out to be, but in its core, it's the beauty itself.

The children, whom I hide in myself, are running around this ship, restlessly. It's as if finally stepping beyond the known land.  But I'd never let them see the world with my own, grown up pair of eyes.

Never has the beat been so strong and steady, as I pushed the sails forward.

 Part VII.

It’s not until the fire-fighters drove past, that I saw two girls caught on fire. It happened in the dead of the night. They looked like two witches burning. Not that I’d know them to be witches.

Investigator of the incident was a middle aged man, whom I had fond memories of. I may have loved him. I helped in any way I could, despite not seeing much of how the fire started. And it turned out I was helpful.

As the investigation was leading to an end, the investigator came closer to me, but an elderly woman dragged my attention to her. Clearly in distress she asked for a favour. In return she wrapped a coat around me and looked sadly at me, as if to say goodbye to a loved one.

Finally free to return to my loved one, I smiled in relief, asked him, if he wants to go. As he walked pass me, I screamed gently, yet heard no reply. As I looked at myself, with agony I realized…
I became a ghost.

Waking up from the last one was a bit painful, for those few seconds, when you have to pinch yourself to see what actually is real. And not knowing if you became a ghost... well, it’s scary.
Queensryche - Silent lucidity

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