I flick my finger along the screen of my phone, and stick it to the alarm clock symbol. My alarm is a bit special; you must press the sheep that’s awake, before it’ll turn off. So, here I am, sitting in my chair, preparing my phone for bed, and staring at my ceiling drinking the last sip of whiskey. My daughter is in bed, and has been for two hours. I normally don’t drink in the week, but I needed to calm my nerves. I only ever have one, but it helped me deal with the last few weeks; they had been exhausting. I heard a saying once, from a Japanese anime, ‘Alcohol brings you closer to the gods’ and that was just where I wanted to be right now. So, I could demand a few answers.
I’d sit there questioning why I not only torment myself, but allow myself to be tormented so much by other people; mainly one or two. I mean, I am very aware I am my own demon in the sense that I am the cause of my own trouble. As if I am the reason for it; I’ve always had this chip on my shoulder, and a drive for redemption as if I’ve done something wrong, and am repenting for it; not that I know what I’ve done, or perhaps I do. Perhaps it was something from a life-time ago, or something forgotten by my brain during the process of reincarnation, or rebirth, or whatever one wishes to call it. I’ve met a few people who had told me I have a very long past, so who on earth knows.
Do you want to know what the strangest thing is?
When I lie down at night, and the lights are off, and the rush of the day has ended, and the smells of petrol have calmed down, and everything sits still for just that single moment, I finally feel wide-awake, and free of the ‘rush-rush’ world around me. Only for a moment, and in the battle of the day-to-day, it is the comfort that I find myself cherishing every single night.
You know what the saddest thing is about me?
It is that quite often, quite often I feel this bulging loneliness inside my chest, as if it is mourning for someone I no longer remember. I’ve always had it, maybe it is reason I am the way I am. All I can say is that it is frustrating.
The meaning of that word touches my heart in the sense that it makes me think that someone out there feels the same way that I do. The idea that someone shares the same shard of longing makes me feel okay. The point I’m getting at is the fact that I’m a very ‘sensitive’ person, and as some of my friends like to brand me—an empath. I like to self-search, and I’ve pretty much done everything on my own. I am very emotional, and am forced to look at everything in more than one angle. I notice every moment that I get ‘déjà vu’, and believe that they are signs from something, in some sense, be it a god (which would be cooler) or the universe experiencing a glitch, like in the matrix. What they mean however, is still something that is evasive of me though.
I understand complicated things like multi-universes, but can’t read a periodic table without struggling. I can show you how to meditate, go on journeys anywhere you could possible imagine, but lack patience to wait in line. Are you getting the picture yet? I’m a little bit enigmatic, or contradictory, even. There are so many questions that encircle my mind. Ones I’ve been trying to let go of, rather than hold onto. There is a question that is pinning me against the wall though, as if it has trapped me in web, and appeared like a spider, ready to eat. “Who the hell is that woman?” Someone who took over my dreams entirely, and stopped me from leaving. Connection is something very high up on my list, yet this completely destroyed my image of it. And you’re probably wondering, what the hell is he on about? Let me explain.
Just to reiterate, I believe in everything. I believe every god exists (not that I follow them), and I believe there is another side to the living world, like a mirror-image. I am a very spiritual person, and believe everything happens for a reason. I do believe in ‘heroes and monsters’, or rather, ‘good, and evil’ but I believe that everyone has a balance, meaning everyone is capable of both.
I set my alarm, close every door, clean my teeth for three minutes, rather than two, wash my face with a hot cloth, even though it apparently ruins your pores. I look at myself in the mirror, and brush my hair. I was mindful of how tired I looked. My phone rested on top of my moisturising cream (Men have them, too.), and hair gel, but was on standby. Even so, the time was still told: 20:53. I know, early to go to bed? Tell that to the black rings that encircled my eyes, exaggerating my tired eyes and double vision. The strangest of things happen when I look-into the mirror, sometimes, just sometimes, I see a glimpse, for just a second, of someone standing next to me; like a shadow in the corner of my eye. Though, that could just be the double vision.
I pull the circles on my face, then quickly forget they exist, I watch the thick set of brown hair return to their natural messy pose, instead of a neatly brushed set of hair, and turn off every light, and close every door, again. It’s like a defence mechanism, “If I close each door, there’s more of a chance of me hearing a burglar, right?” I’d say, pretending as if I knew a thing about the way a burglar’s mind worked. I close my living room door, and then my study, as if they had to be shut in order, and then check the front door. I go upstairs, and make sure my daughter doesn’t need to go to toilet before retiring to my bedroom. When I turn the landing light off I turn my bedroom light on instantly. It’s as if I will see someone hiding in the darkness, unless I push them away with light. Though some scary experiences led me to believe that this could happen; but, not tonight. I put my phone on charge, and I lie down. I put a red set of earphones in, and that was that… gone to the world like a satellite turning off its electricity.
I close my eyes, and remember to breathe deep breaths, as if I’m practicing. I do it when I meditate; it helps me get into the flow of things. I felt as if I had to something like that every night. I had a feeling of pressure on my fore-head, which I get sometimes, and usually see something in the corner of my eye. I start to see energy move as my eyes are closed, and when I open them, I see something move from my window to my door, but quickly ignore it. It did catch me by surprise; it was a white shadow, aren’t they supposed to be black? When it disappears, I close my eyes again, and forget my surroundings. Suddenly, I wake up in a hotel, or a ship—I have no idea.
Food for thought – I usually dream about primitive times up to medieval… which is another thing that caught me by surprise.
I look around whilst sitting on a bed. I’m dressed in a black three-piece suit, red tie, white shirt, ring on my finger index finger, watch on my wrist, and hair settled. I jumped up and looked in the mirror. I was older. I looked about thirty. “Time hadn’t passed that fast already, had it?” I asked. I got up, fastened the buttons, and checked for any misplaced hair. It must have been a big event, or so I assumed. For once, the dream wasn’t dark, or filled with locked doors, and confusing people. I knew I had to go to an event, and I looked around my room before I left. I saw the sanguine-coloured drape hanging from the wall over the bed, but it gave me an eerie feel. I didn’t question it. I took one last glance in the mirror, and saw a goatee on my chin; my facial hair at a glorious precipice. I know, the little things, right?
The handle on the door was circular, polished and brass that attempted to look gold. It almost worked, apart from its feel. I turned the handle, and walked into the corridor. I could hear the couple opposite, arguing. I walked further down, and heard the moans of passion from a couple a few doors down—it must have been a good party to be at. I carried on, admiring the perfect curved sanguine curtains, throughout the corridor. They were symmetrical, and I love symmetry.
I walked three quarters of the corridor, and bumped into some people leaving their room. One woman, two men—they claimed they were my friends. I couldn’t pin their faces to anyone I knew, but I felt that we were close. We walked together, laughing, and talking about the event. The woman I seemed to know more.
“Hey, Dan, are you presenting your book this evening?” she said, ogling at me with a look that seemed almost sinisterly deviant.
“I guess… but I’m not sure how it’ll go.” I replied, scratching my neck, and pressing my fingers against the brass doors.
“You’ll be fine, honestly. You’ll do great.” She said, with an innocent smile, contradictory to her earlier stare. I smiled at her, and then opened the door. She smiled back, and whispered in my ear. “We’re right behind you.”
I walked on, and held my back straight. Chest out, as if I was some-kind of soldier; I wasn’t. Though, it gave me a level of respect I was not used to. People greeted me, and we discussed different things, including my book. The thing was though, that I wasn’t interested in discussing it. It seemed I had a lot on my mind, as always.
I avoided crowds a bit, and after presenting my book, and watching a few other presentations, the room started to clear. I looked for my friends, but they had disappeared. I was just about to get up and leave, when I saw someone walk in, who drew my attention like sugar to a fly. I don’t know what it was, but this feeling bewildered me, trapped me, and no one else in that room existed, but her. I saw her look back, and I tried to look away, but couldn’t. Instead of rolling her eyes, she looked back at me, white-blond locks of hair, short, narrow face, and a beautiful smile, and a perfect set of white teeth to go along with a pair of crystal green eyes, that shone like emeralds. She looked at me, approached me, and said, “You’re different from the rest, aren’t you?” The group she surrounded herself with judged everyone, but me. It was strange, like her rule was law. They avoided my gaze, and I was left with this beautiful woman in front of me, looking at me, as if I was the person in the room she was looking for. In all honestly, it scared the living daylights out of me, but attracted me to her like death attracted Vikings.
The woman, sweet in voice, but very self-aware, and very sure of what she wanted. “you’re him, aren’t you?”, I went to answer, but she carried on, “Don’t speak, I know it’s you. You’re him. Do you know who I am yet?” I went to answer again, but it felt as though she was reading my mind, “Don’t worry, you’re an earlier version of him. I understand.” She put her hand on my arm, wreathing her fingers around my elbow. The other, slightly above my other elbow, on my bicep, her index finger pointing at my face. “I wanted to meet you earlier in your journey, but I didn’t think I would meet you so far back. I want to meet you now.” I looked confused, as you could imagine. “Did I say something wrong?” she said. I said nothing, but she knew my answer, “I see, so you feel the same way? Shall we go for a walk?” I nodded. I must’ve misplaced my tongue.
“So, who are you?” I asked, finally regaining the ability to use words.
She ignored the question, “you know who I am, but what’s the point in telling? I’ll show you. You feel this, don’t you? This connection, the feel of my skin against yours, and my energy touching your energy?” I nodded again, “Good. That means that we are on the same level.” She smiled with a glow that reddened her cheeks, “I can’t tell you my name, for I don’t know what name I will have when we meet, but I’ll make sure I come find you.” She said, linking my arm with hers, and rubbing her face against my shoulder. We were the same height, but she leant on me, arched enough to lean on my shoulder. She wore a white dress that had a serrated collar, and a serrated trim. She was a petite woman, whose figure shaped her like an hourglass.
“Being here, with you, makes me feel comfortable, but why?” I asked, clueless, scurrying my mind in search for an answer.
“Because of what we will be. I will come find you, and then it’ll make sense, I promise.” She whispered, looking ahead. She did not hesitate, or shift her gaze, and it silenced me.
She pulled me around, and made me face her, once we were away from the others. I gazed into her eyes, and I think I fell in love with them. I had fallen in love with two people in the last eight years, more than some people could say in a lifetime, and this was the third. But, it was a dream, right? This person, part of my dream, so… I fell in love with my dream?
The best thing about this dream was that it didn’t end there; we danced, and we held each other in our arms. This… woman, who I hadn’t an answer in my mind as to who she was, but she seemed to know me, more so than I knew myself. She kept her line of sight into my eyes, always. I had never met someone so interested. It was as though she was studying my face, so she could remember it. When the music slowed, we stood closer, and our fore-heads touched. When we opened our eyes, the walls, the floors, and the people had been replaced. It was like an entirely different world. The environment stood like a broken mirror; everything cracked, and different. She seemed like she had suffered something terrible, yet here she stood, appearing stronger than anyone I had come across previous. She led me into her world like a tiger leading its prey. I could do nothing but follow her.
I stepped onto the cracking earth beneath our feet, and we walked; she kept her hand holding mine. Her smile stayed, but she grew serious, “I think, if we meet at an earlier stage, it wouldn’t look like this. I lost you once, and it’s nice to see your face again, like the face I fell-in-love with for the first time.” She wiped a tear from her eyes and asked, “Do you believe me?” I hadn’t a clue what to say, I just stared at the sun merging with the moon, and the pieces of earth scattering in front of us, then I looked at her, and tightened my grip of her hand. “Thank you.” She said as she watching the way I stood in awe. She twirled her hair in her fingers, and smiled at me. This feeling of awe, and emotional reinforcement was replaced by a sickening sensation, as if I felt this darkness in my chest, or somewhere, crying out from what I saw. It was as though unconsciously, I felt that pain. She said, “I accepted your monsters, and you accepted mine, once.” She let go of my hand, and dissipated into smoke.
I could hear her voice all around me. “I brought you here to show you everything that I am, to see what you’d say, if we didn’t meet so late. To show you what we became, and what we will yet be.” she said, her voice echoing all around me. I could imagine what she meant, but at that moment, even though I felt comfortable there, I wanted to wake up; I tried to wake up; I couldn’t wake up. “I’m sorry but I created this place, and you won’t be able to leave until I allow it.” I felt a rushing mix of fear, and excitement burst from the pit of my stomach, crawled up the back of my spine, and tingled in my neck. I felt pressure in the centre of my fore-head as if we still had our fore-heads pressed. For some reason, I was amazed that someone could have such a power over me. All that meditation, forcing lucid dreams whilst still being awake, and in a click of someone’s fingers, I couldn’t move. I had never experienced it. “Don’t panic. I won’t keep you here. Thank you for spending time with me. You can go back now. I fear I may have given you another thing to yearn over.” she said.
For reasons, unknown to me, I felt like crying. I couldn’t open my eyes, but my body was awake. I could move my legs, and arms, but was still watching this dream continue. I tried, and tried, and then stopped struggling. Once I stopped, I fell, as if I had fallen out of the damned Matrix, and I could finally open my eyes. I was left with a smile on my face and a frustrating urge to go to the toilet. I returned to bed, and led down. I thought about that woman… Questions burrowed into my mind the way badgers would burrow into holes. I thought about what it could mean, and I led there, in the dark, staring up at my ceiling, eyes open and seeing everything in my room move around, as if my room was stockpiling energy. For a reason that I’m still not quite sure of. It helped me regain some motivation I was lacking, and get my head in gear. I couldn’t get my mind off her, and when I finally settled down, and the mixture of fear and excitement left me, I tried to sleep again. If she was an enigma, I wanted to understand her. I thought about the dream, and after checking my phone for the last time, which read 02:53, I fell back to sleep.
I opened my eyes again, and there I was, sitting on my bed with a three piece suit on, combed back hair and the coolest type of beard, again. I left the room, which the handles felt like fake gold, and I made my way to the hallway. Every door was closed on the way, and I heard nothing. It was as if everyone had left. My heart fluttered, and anxiety started trickling into my body the same way water trickles into a coffee machine. I saw the same blonde-locks of hair, sitting in the same place I sat, before I saw her for the first time. I made my way over to her, and put my arm on her shoulder. She turned to face me, and I saw a beaming smile as if I surprised her. We sat down, talked for hours, about everything. The past, present, future, and in a flash, my alarm-clock pulled me away with the damn infuriating sheep. Yet, I woke up with a smile on my face.
It was time to try harder.