A dream.

I woke up filled with regret this morning. The reason is that I had an incredible dream, which was full of symbolism about my self-identity and sense of security or insecurity.  The dream represented these things in a sort of journey through a city (more of a sprawl) -- some of the symbols I remember:  My philosophical perspective was represented as a red-shift view of reality, for which I was mocked at a rest stop on a highway that I think represented a 4-year college.

The whole dream, I think, was narrated by a conversation between me and an anonymous psychoanalyst, who was asking me questions about the symbolism in my dream.  By this point, I knew it was a dream.  So, we returned to the beginning, where I was standing alone outside a garage in a dead-end parking lot at the end of an alleyway.  I was green, and I was androgynous.

There was a song playing, and I told the psychoanalyst that I didn't know the words.  It was beautiful, kind of operatic.  And I looked to my right, and the song, in my handwriting, was projected onto a wall.

I grabbed a notebook, because I wanted to know the song when I woke up.  I was clued to the fact that it wasn't a real notebook, because the song was already written down at the bottom of the page I started writing on, going over to the next page.  I think that the notebook I grabbed was the one from the projection.

But I didn't fully realize that it wasn't the right notebook, and I started copying down the first verse.  I remember being profoundly moved by it.

I got to the chorus, and only managed to write down part of the first line before I woke up (my alarm went off) -- that's the part that was stuck in my head when I was awake, so I remember that the line was "The garden of your golden touch" -- I don't know what it means, at all.

I regret not just standing still and trying to memorize it, because if I had, I'm confident I would have known the verse when I woke up.  Maybe it would have been awful, having been manifested by a dream and all.  But still.

Nightmare

I had a terrifying dream last night. I'm having a lot of trouble getting stuff done today, so I think it might be that dream getting in the way.  So, I'm going to try to get it out. Darkness, the central theme of this dream, had a substance.  It was made of stuff, not just the absence of light.  And there were things in that stuff.

It wasn't like the darkness was intelligent, or anything.  But it had a language, you could communicate with it, and I knew this -- everyone knew this -- because a single sentence in the language of darkness had leaked.

Everyone knew it because it was a useful sentence to know.  I think you could use it as fuel or something.  I know the guy I learned it from was using it to make his motorcycle work.

Weeks later, when there were people in every part of the developed world who had made themselves dependent upon this phrase, a website came out, a translator tool that would allow a person to learn new phrases, and find out what they meant.  And it came with a sample phrase.

In a pitch dark room, with only the light of a computer monitor, I sat alone and spoke the test phrase into the mic.  The darkness responded, not from the computer, but emerging out of the black, "I am watching you."

###

That's when I woke up.  But it was dark in the room I woke up in, so waking up wasn't very reassuring.  Closing my eyes made it even darker.

I feel quite certain that the darkness itself wasn't sapient in my dream, but that some limited but powerful creature was using the darkness to leverage itself into a position of control over humanity.  I've always been kind of afraid of the dark, but I think it's going to be a little bit worse for a while.