I Woke in Fright

a record of dreams and nightmares

Month: July, 2012

‘never any signs by means of which being awake can be distinguished from being asleep’

by Bec Fary

“As if it were not a man who sleeps at night, and regularly has all the same experiences while asleep as madmen do when awake – indeed, sometimes even more improbable ones. How often, asleep at night, am I convinced of just such familiar events – that I am here in my dressing gown sitting by the fire – when in fact I am lying undressed in bed! Yet at the moment my eyes are certainly wide awake when I look at this piece of paper; I shake my head and it is not asleep; as I stretch out and feel my hand I do so deliberately, and I know   what I am doing. All this would not happen with such distinctness to someone asleep. Indeed! As if I did not remember other occasions when I have been tricked by exactly similar thoughts while asleep! As I think about this more carefully, I see plainly that there are never any sure signs by means of which being awake can be distinguished from being asleep. The result is that I begin to feel dazed, and this very feeling only reinforces the notion that I may be asleep.”

Rene Descartes, from ‘Meditations’ 


a trip to the supermarket.

by Bec Fary

I dreamt I was in the supermarket, looking at all the bananas. There were some huge ones and some really small ones. Some had a lot of brown and black, some were bright, bright yellow with that red wax around the end. They all looked delicious and I wanted to buy them all. I kept picking them up to put in my shopping basket but then I was see a label that said they were imported so I would put them back. This happened at least three times with different types of bananas. Finally I found a sign with a map of Australia on it, but it was for the avocados. I picked one up but it was nearly black and so overripe that it turned to liquid in my hand.


by Bec Fary

“The cloud-capp’d tow’rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.”

William Shakespeare, from ‘The Tempest’ 

Plastic wrap

by Bec Fary

I woke to the sound of someone scrunching plastic, maybe bubble wrap or a plastic bag. At first it sounded like it was coming from the next room, but it grew louder and closer, as if someone was rubbing plastic into my ears.

It kept getting louder and closer but I was paralysed and couldn’t move away from it. Finally the sound got so close that it took over my whole body, as if I was the plastic and someone was scrunching me, moving me to make this enormous sound.

I couldn’t move, it felt like I was half asleep and struggling to wake up and then I heard a man’s voice in the room.

I kept trying to move and wake up and the plastic sensation went away, but I felt like I’d gone completely numb and heavy and still couldn’t move, then someone was dragging me across the bed.

I still couldn’t move and I could so clearly feel the bed spread slipping away from me as my whole body was dragged. Finally I woke up for real and realised I must have been dreaming or half asleep.

I was completely alone, the man’s voice and the sound of plastic had come from nowhere. Feeling numb and heavy and paralysed still, I was terrified that those dream sensations weren’t real because they were more vivid than waking life.

by Bec Fary

A dream this morning, a microdream. In just one second of sleep I had a story driven to me. I saw segmented body parts, hips and limbs of mannequins with no hands or feet. It was in a dark, narrow room, maybe a hallway, with a door or window open at the end and a weak shaft of grey light revealing the disjointed shapes. Slowly I came to know the body parts were mine.


by Bec Fary

from Juxtapoz

Illustration from James Roper’s ‘Rapture’ series.
(found on Juxtapoz)

I had a crazy sex dream: I was going down on a girl, she was on the floor rolling around and around and she was soft and beautiful though I couldn’t see her face.

Somehow it was part of her psychotherapy.

I’m Only Sleeping

by Bec Fary

“I’m still yawning
When I’m in the middle of a dream
Stay in bed, float upstream.”

by Bec Fary

There’s a bar set against a cliff. I ask for a Heineken, and a man sitting with a group aks what I said. He has blue eyes that look directly into mine, and blonde hair.

I repeat myself and he tells me he couldn’t understand me because of my accent. I tell him I’m Australian. He says he already knew that, because he’s German.

My friend arrives and stands behind me. I try to introduce her but I get her name wrong, even though I know it. I haven’t had anything to drink but I’m drunk anyway.

Another friend arrives and hands me a white pill. She tells me it’ll make me feel better. I put it on my tongue but I can’t swallow because my mouth is so dry.

by Bec Fary

She tells me to read from a script and I fall behind. I think everyone has been practicing but it’s my first time. She tells me I’ll be perfect but she doesn’t have much time for rehearsals so we’ll have to run late. I tell her I have a friend that can help us but I’ve forgotten how. I woke with the truth on the fringes of my mind.

Sleep be kind, and mend my mind (variation)

by Bec Fary

“Is a dream a lie if it don’t come true? Or is it something worse?”

Bruce Springsteen, from ‘The River’ 

I can’t claim the following beautiful words as my own, they are from the lovely lady behind Sidenight

‘I don’t dream anymore
As I don’t sleep
The hours pass by
With a lack of mystery
There’s no love in the room
No creature to hold
No hand to grasp
All love’s been sold.’