Waking from the dream

The weight of my head was important. There was a burrowing heaviness, gravity pulling me into something that seemed highly dangerous. The weight of my head overbalanced me and drove me into the next barrier. Head bowed, battering into the earth mound, the mattress, something not altogether hard. At the same time I was on top of a train, on the roof, moving towards the front, jumping over the gaps between the carriages. Not only that but I had the distinct impression that the carriages were getting narrower. I don’t like it but there is nothing I can, I am compelled to drive myself on, I know not to what end.
Waking up to the sound of rain still in the grip of fear from the last jump and clinging precariously to the narrowing carriage roof.
The strange world of dreams. The puzzle of images strung together, the emotion lived through, ‘this is my life’, and then it’s not – oh, it was a dream, but there remains the tastes, the hangover of the dream, inviting further work.
Two dreams, one from fifteen years ago, a dream of being dragged out of bed, me trying to get back into bed; a wake-up call as I saw it – the start of new chapter, the beginning of a journey through a difficult landscape, which the dream described above can stand for – in the dark not knowing what the outcome will be, what the purpose of the journey is. What is the destination of the train and what is my destination? I was heading for the front of the train, but will I ever reach it, the engine, will I ever get to share a joke with the driver?


Posted

in

by

Tags: