Jamesvansteel By Jamesvansteel, 10th Apr 2015 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Narrative

The boundary between waking life and dream consciousness


I am dreaming. I know because my room isn't where it should be, and the windows are blinking like massive eyelids, drowsy and slipping off, so tired and warm…

"I'm sick of following my dreams. I'm just going to ask them where they're goin', and hook up with them later."
Mitch Hedberg

9:75 AM – I spring out of bed and jump into a pair of sweat pants and hoodie, leaping down the hallway grabbing a glass of water and down the three flights of steps, work is only half an hour away. I glide along the highway toward the early morning horizon, mostly unobscured and magnificently painted in coral pinks and ever-greens. A heavy stratosphere of cloud descends from on high, the pressure of its fall piercing the air and earth, funneling downward still, down into chasms and caves, the deep places of the world – I stop my movement and stare into the void it has created. I must be dreaming.

A chill infects my consciousness, a rotting dense cold that weighs heavily yet crawls along the stone floors that are lit by a hollow glow. A vast empty space with low ceilings, my basement it seems, although I haven’t lived in this house for 15 years and there are no perceivable walls. Movement, forward, inevitably, and dark figures trailing smoke drift past, moving against me. Their faces are contorted, in screams and scowls, some are emaciated skeletons but others bear the faces of my cousins and old friends, ones I haven’t seen in many years. They gather around me and the cold intensifies, I can hardly stand the creeping presence of their bodies, closing in and pushing me forward still, toward an entrance – I want to fight but I have no strength within me. I struggle to flee but can’t and force myself awake.

"Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes."
Carl Yung

I’m covered in cold sweat, sitting upright and heaving breaths in and out, I can hear every creak in the mattress and the parking lot lamps flood the small room with an orange glow. I calm down but can’t return to sleep, not after that. Rising and putting on some sweatpants and a hoodie, I walk quietly to the kitchen to draw a glass of water. Still shaken, I decide a cigarette might calm me down and begin to descend the stairs to the outside. The sun hasn’t yet risen, and the orange glow I thought had come from the streetlights was actually a rather beautiful sky, expressed in various blues and reds. I go for a walk down the sidewalk, entranced by the beauty of a patch of salmon sky, expanding on the distant horizon.

"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible."
T.E. Lawrence


Boundaries, Dream, Fantasy, Lucid Dream, Nightmare

Meet the author

author avatar Jamesvansteel
Mostly Inactive

Share this page

moderator Steve Kinsman moderated this page.
If you have any complaints about this content, please let us know


author avatar Kingwell
10th Apr 2015 (#)

Sometimes I awake and feel that the dream is more real than waking life. Good share. Blessings.

Reply to this comment

Add a comment
Can't login?