Saturday, November 20, 2004
I've always wondered where our brains gets ideas for dreams. Other than the severely traumatized people who get recurring nightmares, for the most of us we usually get a different dream every time we sleep. For those who claim that they don't dream coz they don't remember their dreams i'll say screw off, u DO dream and if u've been having the same dreams every night u'd remember them.
As i was saying, when u're awake u sometimes have trouble coming up with good ideas for whatever you're doing. Yet the brain never seems to have trouble coming up with new material for their newest blockbuster dream. I've had quite a few dreams, and i do remember alot of them when i wake up. Some of them you remember only as far as going to brush your teeth, others remain in your head for a good amount of time. I've had one such dream that i still remember.
Followers of my blog would know that my housemates are pretty idealistic people. They live in a world with no evil, no greed, no danger, no crime. Our front door is almost never locked, i presume their reasoning is that there're people in the hall. But when these people leave the hall to go to their rooms or where ever, the door remains unlocked. I presume their reasoning is that there're people at home. And when they put take naps, go to sleep or watch a movie on their laptops possibly with earphones on, the door remains unlocked. Sorry i didn't get their reasoning here. I could walk in with a marching band and empty the hall and the kitchen without their knowing. And just like that i would have in my possesion a working TV, a working X-box with about 7 controllers (2 of which are faulty i think but the condescending robber wouldn't know would he?), a humble collection of almost 20 original games, a cable modem, a working Linksys wireless router, a guitar, every now and then if u're lucky a wallet or two, a handphone or two, and even a laptop or two. Ok i think i've gone over this before in a previous post so i'll stop here. My point is that my front door is hardly ever locked.
Every now and then my housemates would go for a game of pool about 10-11pm and be back past midnight when the billiards parlour closes. Usually i'd follow them, but occasionally work holds me back. There was this once they had the intention to go for pool and i was too tired to follow them, so i went to sleep really early, before they had even left for pool. Naturally we would assume that by the time they left i would be in deep asleep, and the door would yet again be left unlocked. So the scene is set for my dream.
I would wake up to the noise of someone yanking my laptop on the table beside me out, he would look at me shocked and i would look at him startled. I would yell at him and get out of bed ready to kick his sorry ass for even thinking of robbing my house, only to warn his compatriots in the other rooms to my presence. His compatriots would charge into the room and i naturally would struggle. I would feel the cold metal gaining entry through my skin, and i would scream, i would feel warm plasma oozing out of my open wounds, and i would yell, and i would all this while be engaged in physical negotiations with a bludgeon as it would be telling me to keep quiet if i knew what was good for me but somehow i would argue, and it would tell me again to be quiet, and i would argue, and this would continue till either i ran out of voice or motivation to live.
I could see myself lying there, i know that's me for sure. I've seen this guy in the mirror many times, except now it would seem as i'm the mirror, looking at myself. Of course then the first question going through my head would be am i dead, which i would quickly deny due to the fact that all the expensive equipment around me desperately delaying me from finally finding out how God looks like with my own eyes. Then the same way the truth quickly dawns upon a policeman who fires on a thug that he had just deprived a family of either a father or a son who lived life the only way he knew, the truth came to me as i saw myself in 3rd person from the time the doctors worked to keep my heart beating, to the time the paramedic was yelling at me to stay alive as consciousness was like an elusive wet bar of soap, to the time the ambulance came giving me blood from a person i would perhaps never know, to the time my housemates came back from pool oblivious to the open unlocked door, the messy house until they saw me in a pool of blood, to the time the men in desperation to silence their only witness stabbed and stabbed and clubbed and clubbed, and then there i was, lying there, serenely tucked under the white sheets, the machines beeping monotonously to signal my health, the peaceful silence a cacophony of irony to my tragedy. As i moved nearer to myself, i could see my mother seated on the chair beside the bed, head and hands sprawled on the bed as she probably gave in to exhaustion, implying she had been here for quite a while. The dried tears on her face was obvious for all to see, and this was a strange sight as my mother was a hardy woman, and the last time she shed tears was more than 10years ago when my grandfather passed on.
I tried to open my eyes but couldn't. I tried to move but couldn't. I was breathing, that much i was sure. I couldn't see myself coz i couldn't open my eyes, but i knew. That's all i could conclusively say, i just knew. It was that kind of delusional knowledge of not knowing what i knew. And i couldn't do anything about it. I could hear my mother crying beside me, yet i could not open my eyes to be sure she was there beside me. She kept crying, asking me to wake up, but i couldn't even open my eyes to tell her i'm awake then fall asleep again like i would when she woke me up for school in my younger days. She kept on crying, begging me to wake up. The sadness i felt must've had gotten through the darkness and made me tear for her to know i could hear her, and she cried even harder, begged even more for me to wake up.
I woke up in cold sweat that night i could still remember. I'm glad the minute i went back to sleep my brain decided to work on a different project as i have not had this dream again from then. But remembering a dream like this does change your perspective of life when you think of it.
Dr@n|xX at 8:40 PM