I dream about sleeping. Sleeping deeply. Soundly. Peacefully. And drifting out of it gently. Rising up from the mists of sleep, drifting into the waking world like a feather rising slowly on a hot summer day. Not being woken up by strange noises and alarm clocks or sunshine. Not by neighbors banging doors, or by my conscience and my sense of duty urging me to get to work at a decent hour.
Varied house guests, couchsurfers and other commitments have contributed to leaving me deprived of the soothing balm that knits the ‘ravelled sleeve of care. And it makes me unsociable, and feeling dumb. Which is not a pleasant feeling. To make matters worse, when I do fall asleep – like around 2 pm last night, my sub conscious contrives to sabotage what little nap time I manage. It makes me dream. If you have a co-operative sub conscience you see pleasant dreams. Such as scoring the winning goal in the world cup final, or winning the lottery. Or maybe if you’ve been really good to your sub conscience you see dreams where you are pouring late night drinks for Uma Thurman and Charlize Theron in your apartment. In the hot tub.
And if you’ve been really unkind, as no doubt I have, you see dreams where you are trying to fall asleep. I cannot remember where reality ended and where the dream started but all I remember from last night is that I was trying to fall asleep.And not even trying to fall asleep in some 5 star resort with goose down quilts and goose feather pillows. My dream had me in my own apartment, and in my own bed. Like I need a dream to see that. And at some point the alarm went off and I stopped trying to fall asleep and actually woke up. And then I was thinking, wait a minute, how could I wake up – I was trying to fall asleep all this while.
Sort of like life. It’s hard to make out where reality ends and my head begins.
I think I need to rent some one else’s dreams, mine are not doing it for me.