Dreaming during the day can be so different. Hyperdetailed visuals, reality bleeds through. my body still feels heavy, and I wonder if I’m going to stumble and fall down every time I try to get up. Weird half remembered fragments from a very long time ago, some true, others not. Pictures, faint audio tracks of events long finished. Places that haven’t existed in 19 years. Loud noises from someone else’s stereo bleed through the dusty walls. Linoleum, incredibly detailed high resolution imagery of linoleum. Cracking at the corners, where it joins to the wall and the cabinet. Dark underneath, water stained plywood backing, the cracks accentuated by years of ground-in dirt. Creaky floor. We must be up on at least the third floor. The lighting is bad, and I’m alone. Everything is too yellow. One little high up window, covered in dust lets no light in. Outside there are some people I don’t know, and one that I do. I don’t trust any of them. Peeling wall paper. Wind chimes. Still feel very heavy. Can’t stand up straight. fall down and hit my head on the sink. Flip. I dream about lying on a bed. In this dream I’m not dreaming, and I know that the other stuff is a dream. Both dreams come and go, sometimes fading out completely, sometimes both coming at the same time. I flip between images on a cell phone. Pictures of me. Candy bar phone. I’ve never owned one like this, so it must not be mine. In the other dream, someone is yelling at me through the door. They aren’t coming in though because I locked it. I lie on the floor, getting myself wet, staring at the ceiling. The pictures are of me, at some event I’ve never been to wearing clothes I have never owned. I look happy. I wonder where and when and why I was happy. I set a picture of me as the background, realizing that it will make someone else happy to have it that way. I wonder who.
Realized that I listened to this track right before falling asleep.
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Comments
One reason (among many) that I try not to fall asleep during the day is because the dreams have a far greater emotional impact. They’re closer to the surface, closer to what’s real, closer to the conscious mind and all it’s hopes, fears and dreams.
Twice I’ve dreamed dreams that were so perfect–that were everything I could ever want my life to be and contained such a rich spectrum of happy, contented, satisfied feelings–that when I woke up I cried. Made me want to die that my life was so far from that dream.
Then again there’ve been dreams that showed me just how much the past had affected me as much as I might deny it. How broken and lost I have been or am.
Either way, I wake up miserable… I don’t nap, because no matter what I wake up unhappy. Life is far better when I stick with the conscious one. The best dreams are at 10 AM when I get to sleep in. Thank god for weekends.
Dreams are intense. They’ll mess you up. I’m glad I’m not the only one that takes note of colors and light in dream, though. That stuff is always gorgeous. If I could capture that light in the real world I’d be god-damn rich.
Posted 10 Mar 2008 at 10:20 PM ¶Post a Comment