Wednesday, October 11, 2006

The Evil

Tuesday; October 10, 2006 8:39 AM

Often enough I don't remember my dreams at all. On other occasions, perhaps more frequently, I wake up with a vivid memory of them, or at least they leave me with a vivid sensation, but the memory of the dream itself washes away very quickly as the routine for getting up and preparing to face the world takes over. Last night I had two very contrasting dreams which, to an extent, left me feeling exactly like that. The first one made me wake up in a cold sweat, with the ominous feeling of a dark menacing presence. The second one woke me up to elation, a beautiful feeling only marred by the realisation that the dream was over. And yet, I fell asleep to the same dream again.

The first one was a variant on a frequent theme. Extremely difficult to describe, as there is a kind of multi-dimensionality to it and at some points I am an observer while at others I'm caught in the action and can be one of several of the protagonists in the dream. In any case, there is an evil power which we have unleashed by the act of discovering it exists, blowing its cover in the ordinary world. Then I become one of the 'players' in this dreadful play and am a weak human facing this boundless monstrosity, or, like last night, at some point into the dream I discover that I am of the same angelic ro demonic (for want of better word) nature but of a far, perhaps infinitely far lower order and therefore incapable in almost any way of facing the larger, evil power. I can only hide but there are only few places where I can hide from such a being, while he destroys the world outside and hunts my companions one by one. I will be hidden in an attic and I already know the inevitable outcome: I will come out to face him in the end. And lose. That's when I see the man with the bowler hat and the thick glasses come in the house, speak to my companions reassuringly, the danger has passed. My companions disappear, maybe go out in the world and the man goes in the distance and then I see it. As he turns his back to me in the distance I see flames coming out of the skirts of his jacket. He is declaring himself, now he has wings, the most beautiful wings but that too is a lure, as I can't resist declaring my nature too (which is perhaps a revelation to me), show my wings and -then he grows and becomes -darkness. Infinite, all encompassing darkness. The dream doesn't end but I know what ensues. I wake up shivering, trying to brush away the evil presence which still seems to be there, just beyond the window, between the ceiling and the roof or just beyond the familiar, comforting penumbra of my bedroom. The thing about this dream is that it is a circular story. I know the outcome because it has taken place infinite times in the past and in the future -and I remember them all as I play my part in this horrible story. I know what is going to happen but can do nothing to alter the outcome, whatever I do with that intention ends up re-inforcing the fixed course of things to happen.

The second one is much more difficult to remember, it had a very strong sexual component but not expressly so. I have a young woman friend who also seems to be of some angelic nature. She comforts me, makes me laugh but there is only a friendship -there can be no more as we are of different orders, again. But that is enough. Enough indeed that although the complicated plot of the dream is lost when I wake up, I do so happy and smiling and rested, cured of the evil previous dream, at least for a while. I turn over to continue sleeping and float down to meet her again in a sunny balcony with flowers. She smiles. I smile, too.

I'm noticing that I had so much to say about the evil dream, so little about the happy one, even though they were equally powerful at the time...


After writing about those two dreams last night I felt dizzy and not quite there for a while, which is a bit awkward when you know you have lots of lessons to do for the following seven or eight hours, almost continuously. With a woozy head and something akin to the feeling of doom that I had when I woke up from the dream, I had to nonetheless carry on teaching for the rest of the day, I have people sitting in front of me who have paid for their lessons and expect me to impart words of wisdom about their guitar playing (and, sometimes I suspect, perhaps for me to tell them that they are marvellous and need absolutely no lessons from me, their future as rock stars assured). All this while the kids get restless and make jokes or bash away at their guitar tunes and exercises and I get this cold wind from the dark, void, hostile universe without and the nothingness beyond ..


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