welcome to my dreams...

Everyone has nightmares. It's a given of life that you will get them. There's the normal variety of "oh shit, I just lost all my money" kind of ones, or sometimes the "oh shit, I crapped my pants. Litterally" ones that are just embarrasing.

Then there are other ones. Darker and drenched with personal meaning. The ones that wake you frightfully from your sleep with such force that you remember every vivid detail. Those are the ones I get quite often...

I often also get sleep paralysis, that is, I wake up from sleep, or am in a half-awake state sometimes, and I find that I can't move my body. I had my first episode when I was about 7 years old. It scared the crap out of me. Actually, I was more scared by the nightmare that I had which made me wake up with such force. I remember that one vividly to this day. But that is for another time

...

2006

...

It's dark. Feels like about 8 o'clock at night. It's cold- it must be winter. There is a slight mist hanging in the air. And a bright street lamp. Actually it's a flood light on top of a wall. I'm on a path, walking softly on grass that is slightly wet from new formed dew. I pass by a tree that has very small leaves. My eyes focus on a single leaf. It has a dew drop on it and I'm struck in a child-like awe as I watch the refracted light from the floodlight and the ambient light of my surrounds pass through and bend through the perfectly clear dew drop. After an eternity, I realise there IS ambient light, not just the floodlight. My eyes slowly focus on the distance and I see that I'm at the staff/back entrance of a shopping centre. The floodlight is one that illuminates a advertisement, though currently it's empty.

A derelict poster board. I feel the first pang... of....something.

I'm at the back entrance door. It's a double door with the typical sign saying that "the door is alarmed". I push it open and am greeted by the outflow of warm air and golden light. The gentle sounds of a quiet shopping centre seeps out: the grind of trolleys, the hum of people talking, beeps and hums of machinery, but all wrapped in a golden warmth that sounds pleasant. It smells of life. Of people. Of familiarity. I step in.

But somethings wrong. I see a courtyard of the shopping centre filled with warm light. With golden light. With warmth. But it's fake. It's hollow.

I feel another pang...of...it.

My eyes find it hard to focus. Something blurs past. My eyes fixate. Every-so-often, people blur past me: that is- they seem like phantoms. One moment they're to the right of me, next to my left. It's like I'm going through life in a series of freeze frames. But I can't make out who the people are. Their movement is making them blurred. Fear rises from my stomach, making me almost breathless. There's no one. I can't talk to any of them. I turn around and watch someone buy bread from Baker's Delight. One moment they're at the counter. Next you see them pointing to the shelf. Next they have the bread in a bag in one hand while handing over money to the shop keeper. Next their back is to the shop, while the shop keeper smiles and waves as they leave.

I feel another pang of...it. Of loneliness so unbearable that it hurts/scares/frightens and strangely...comforts, me. I look around- everyones there. People, families, kids, lovers. They can all talk to one another. They can all see the smiles. I can only guess at what they're talking about; of how they feel.

I feel hollow. I feel that desolate feeling. The same one I get when I stand in a large crowd: even with so many people around, I'm completely alone. A stranger in an otherwise normal world. My world inside the bubble of theirs. It feels familiar. It feels like home. Yet it still hurts. It's the feeling of Loneliness. Not loneliness: the feeling that I'm all alone. No it's not that. It's MORE than that. It's purely lonely, an isolated, encapsulated emotion in it's entirety. There is no self-pity, or sadness, or pain. Just loneliness. And though it hurts, something that pure simulataneously makes me happy.

...

At the time I woke up with a tear in my eye, not knowing why. Over the next few days I remembered the dream. I still don't know if it was because I was strangely elated or profoundly depressed by the entire affair.