My waking thought processes rolled easily into my dreaming ones. I don’t remember falling asleep and it feels like there was no crossover between my dreams and awake, just a continuous stream. I woke in my dream bed and I felt like I was coming down from some MDMA while still tripping on something else. My thoughts were all rolling together and I was finding it really hard to make any sense of my swirling mind.
Among other things (I can’t remember what I was thinking about but there were a lot of simultaneous trains of thought overlapping) I was telling myself to get out of bed. But I was paralysed with my hand stuck under my leg as I lay on my stomach.
I think maybe I was about to puke or something because it was getting really urgent but I still couldn’t move.
Then I heard footsteps and I knew someone was next to the bed. I couldn’t see the person but I could feel her and I know she was watching me. She had a strong and very tangible presence.
Urgency was rising and there was nothing I could do until suddenly I was tumbling over the side of the bed towards the ground which was now very far away. There was a loud whooshing in my ears and I heard laughing.
I knew the person next to the bed was doubled over laughing even though I still couldn’t see her and her laughter echoed in my head like it was from afar but somehow also inside me. I was so nervous it felt like my heart was expanding.
My whole body was limp and my limbs tangled as I fell and was pushed flat into the floor. My feet were near my shoulders and my arms were wrapped around each other.
I woke up sure I would be in the floor at someone’s feet but I was lying on my stomach in bed, intact and alone, but that presence hovered over me.
Feeling very inspire I stayed awake until the infant hours of this morning writing. In the delusions of exhaustion I submitted an article to Thought Catalog, my favourite blog.
I woke later this morning from a dream that the article I’d submitted had been accepted and published while I was sleeping. All of my Facebook friends were sharing it. It was heavily edited but I didn’t mind.
The first thing I did when I woke up was check the latest Thought Catalog offerings but this is a dream that’s yet to come true.
Take this kiss upon the browl
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep-while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
Edgar Allen Poe, ‘Dream Within a Dream’
“Sometimes, the candle barely out, my eyes closed so quickly that I did not have time to tell myself: ‘I’m falling asleep.’ And half an hour later the thought that is was time to look for sleep would awaken me; I would make as if to put away the book which I imagined was still in my hands, and to blow out the light; I had gone on thinking, while I was asleep, about what I had just been reading, but these thoughts had taken a rather peculiar turn; it seemed to me that I myself was the immediate subject of my book… This impression would persist for some moments after I awoke; it did not offend my reason, but lay like scales upon my eyes and prevented them from registering the fact that the candle was no longer burning. Then it would begin to seem unintelligible, as the thoughts of a previous existence must be after reincarnation; the subject of my book would separate itself from me, leaving me free to apply myself to it or not; and at the same time my sight would return and I would be astonished to find myself in a state of darkness…
I would fall asleep again, and thereafter would reawaken for short snatches only, just long enough to hear the regular creaking of the wainscot, or to open my eyes to stare at the shifting kaleidoscope of the darkness, to savour, in a momentary glimmer of consciousness, the sleep which lay heavy upon the furniture, the room, that whole of which I formed no more than a small part and whose insensibility I should very soon return to share. Or else while sleeping I had drifted back to an earlier stage in my life, now for ever outgrown, and had come under the thrall of one of my childish terrors, such as that old terror of my great-uncle’s pulling my curls which was effectually dispelled on the day – the dawn of a new era to me – when they were finally cropped from my head. I had forgotten that event during my sleep, but I remembered it again immediately I had succeeded in waking myself up ti escape my great-uncle’s fingers, and as a measure of precaution I would bury the whole of my head in the pillow before returning to the world of dreams.”
Marcel Proust – from ‘In Search of Lost Time, Volume 1: Swann’s Way’
The Smiths – ‘Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me’
“I’m in outer space on my side of the bed,
On a floating mattress my eyes stare ahead.
Hovering alarm clock is my satellite
Under little specks of starlight on a flight.
See a little asteroid pass by underneath
There’s an empty space on your side, and I can’t sleep.”
Darwin Deez, from ‘Bed Space’