Incoherent Whispers | Musings

I have this rather annoying thing where I will have a night full of extraordinary dreams, I will wake in a flurry, but the forget the details of these wonderful adventures only hours later. So I got into the habit of jotting then down when I can. Most of the time it helps, sometimes it doesn’t. I must say, I am rather lucky. While I did have them while I was quite a bit younger, I don’t have nightmares. Rarely do the dreams I have scare me so much that I cannot sleep. While I still have the odd dream that will disturb me deeply, I feel that is not the same as having a nightmare. At least the disturbing stuff isn’t to hard to get over. More often than not, I will have many short dreams in a single night. Sometimes they link together, sometimes not. Every now and then, there will be a continuation of one of these snippets, possibly weeks down the track. Hell, I’ve been known to have the same dream twice. Down to the exact details.

 

The dreams I have are often not about very normal things or places. However, there is almost always a familiar face in any of my dreams. Whether it be a family member or an old classmate, there is usually always someone I know floating around in my dreams cape. I can only think of one instance where that has not been true. Quite often they take place in settings I have never seen before. A restaurant on a beach side cliff. A broken down mansion atop a hill. A grand fairy tale castle that is underwater, but at the same time, not. These places to truly captivate me, and truth be told, are some of the only reasons why I even enjoy dreaming in the first place. The second thing that I enjoy about it, is the feelings I experience. I am highly emotional in my dreams. It’s thrilling.

 

Aside from those two things, dreaming to me, can be a very bizarre event. More often than not, they are completely bizarre and make little to no sense. Picture this: a small old barn, weathered and grey. There is a donkey out front, tethered to a post, eating some hay and minding his own business. But when I look up, the sky is a magnificent kaleidoscope of colors, twisting and writhing. And in the field out the back of this barn, a Spanish couple is making passionate love on a nest of white silk sheets. And to get to this scene in the first place, I walked down a dirt road that had racks of uncountable numbers of bath bombs going up the sides of the path, that one of my friend’s mum made. There are so many incomprehensible things that make up these places, I rarely understand what is going on.

 

But what I do understand, it that the things I feel in these dreams. How I react to these abstract scenarios, is oddly reflective. I see things through a lens unclouded by my day to day life, my peers, judgement of any sort. In a way, it’s very freeing. I can feel what I want to feel, and feel it with my whole being. There is no holding back. No fear of judgement or ridicule. If I’m happy in my dream, I can scream it to the whole world. The very light is shining out of me. If I’m sad, I can weep. My whole body can shudder and sob with the weight of the pain I feel. I become a void, caving in on itself. In my dreams, I’m not held back by my pitiful mortal cage. I am nothing, everything, and anything. All at once.

 

Art: Sleeping Karina by Sergey Lesnikov, oil on panel.

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