Half Dreams, Half Fiction

What keeps me up most nights is a reluctance to leave the last state of consciousness, from which I cling to some notion that I can control and direct my thoughts and my body. It is a state of cognitive uncertainty, my brain trying desperately to untie itself from awakeness where it becomes free to romp through the bizarre interior mindscape that is the dreaming, yet I am unwilling to sever the connection.

It's not from fear of disconnect, though; rather, I'm aware of many of those things that happen in my dreams, and I want to be present for them as much as possible. But instead of carrying my consciousness into my dreams, I try to keep one foot in the door back to awakeness so that I may slip in and out as I please.

What usually ends up happening is hours of limbo, during which I am effectively asleep because i cannot rouse myself enough to get back to awakeness, but the sleep is not restful.

Sentences float through my mind, the most tangible thing I can describe, like a lifeline shooting through the mental darkness and describing it to the part of my mind that can understand language. When I can remember to do it, I write them down, and they are still nonsense the morning after.

21 September 2013 09:58