How real a dream can feel

jacqueline | Feb. 22, 2023, 2:36 a.m. Might be a poem

Well, hello there.

I'm just here to write today. I've found inspiration while I've been in hiding. 

I've mourned a lot about so much. I've made peace with my nightmares. There was a man on fire, I hugged him, as if I was made of water and put out all his flames. He was just a man haunting my dreams by mistake.

As a thank you for putting out his flames and with much apology for stumbling in, he put me out of my misery with a sprinkle of dreamy dust over my eyes, I fell back, and the ground splashed into a colorful mess of disorientation where I went swimming inside an illusion made just for me. He played a song sounding like the most beautiful lullaby. It tickled my brain in every section sending electroshock therapy throughout every spot that used to hurt, collide-a-scop-ing images made up, I melted into one. It all just came together and fell apart then became a part of me. 

I was swimming in emotions all made to be real, but in my dream, I couldn't tell, I just allowed myself to feel. It's feeling that consumes me. Shackles me and takes a strong hold. In my dreams I don't allow it and I jump always ready to go. Then another feeling catches me always by surprise.

I've felt something and felt so deeply that I forgot how I ever lived not knowing of that feeling before. A creepy kind of drug that funguses around the brain like a mycelium membrane running wild. These feelings are so sticky they follow me deep where I try to sleep. Although I'm sleeping it's wide awake. 

It's absolutely beautiful but it's absolutely terrifying too. Letting something in to take hold, it takes a sort of exorcism to get it out after it's jumped in. So yeah, Love right? Talk about a gamble. Feelings? Lets' not do that. 

To realize all the sadness from all of the loss, meant I once had, and it was all just meant to bring me back to myself. What a trip. Can you believe I've done this to myself? I walk right into the flames hypnotized by its dance. This is how this man found himself on fire, stumbled right into my dream. It was a mess, I thanked him for the trip. 

It was exciting. I didn't expect to meet him on this particular night, where moments ago I had been shot beside the head, before my last alarm. I had woken up to a golfcart in the body of an aged man holding a cane in one hand and a hat above my head. 

How real a dream can feel.

I've been constructing my dream home, a place I run and hide and lock all the doors. It's made of all the precious woods and smells of all the memories I keep close and hold dear. No bad feelings can catch me here because it's made of all the peace I've conjured up. 

It's one thing to fall in love with that man, or that woman, but with me, it's like living in the perfect house. Every section just made special for every aspect of my life. 

I'll miss everyone that isn't with me and all of those that have left and that are gone now, but in this home that I've built out of love for myself, I've made a painting full of memories with all those people in them. I can revisit those moments with a cup of tea and a good spliff, because in my house, I'm allowed to smoke, and it never smells bad, and will never make me sick. Those beautiful souls can visit any time while I fill my dream's with smoke a altered art. I've finally tapped into what I needed to find inside my heart and within myself. 

I've decided to allow my imagination to run wild for as long as it can go, and here within my dream home the possibilities are endless, I just need to get there and remind myself when I've arrived. It's easy to allow myself to get distracted by the credits from the day I've left behind. 

My eyes are closed now, this is my place. 

The ceilings are high and lined with books of every kind with all the answers to any question inside my mind. The ceiling see-through to the vast space to build and climb. Oh, and the couches are comfy you can believe only the best here in this dream of mine. 

Now that I've told you of my dreams, although it is so intimately mine, my dream where I hold the key and could let someone in, but I will only invite one, and it's that man who stumbled in, all by mistake. He didn't miss his take and jumped right in where he found me within the flames inside my mind. I saw him on fire, a reflection in the funhouse of the mirrors here they play, putting out his flames put out my flames as well. 

Welcome to my dreamland the place I go and play. 

I've been studying other writers and there is one thing a lot of them have in common with myself, our impending doom. I can mourn for all those I've lost and will lose, but I'll never mourn more than the day I no longer get to play, express myself through art and writing, test the waters for what's right or what's wrong. My mortality begs me to walk as close to the edge as possible. Find whatever I haven't written and write it. I'm digging deep now and I'm trying harder than ever. I am falling in love with the dream. This beast is beautiful and full of life, it wants me to feel and feel deeply. It wakes' me up in cold sweats fearing the last day I taste the snow on a sunny day. The last words I get to say. So here is to dreaming and not letting it feel so different from reality, good luck. 

May all your good dreams come true. 

And may the bad dreams be a lesson that you learn from and move on. Right? I hope. 

As always,

Thank you for reading.