You know those dreams you have of standing in front of a large group of people naked. I don’t have those dreams. I often felt a little envious of the people who told stories of the wonderful weird and wacky dreams they had as I stood by without anything to say.
In fact if you asked me directly I would say I don’t have dreams at all, at least not when I sleep. I lie down to go to sleep, turn over once then I wake up in the morning. The gift the gods gave me when I was born was the gift of sleep. All my dreams occur when I am awake. The daydreams and my most persistent is the running dream.
I can be walking down the street when I see myself frantically running, helter, skelter into the distance and in place of my head I have a clock ticking loudly and quickly as if it is wound up from my heart. The words “I’m late”, “6am” , “Wake Up”, “half an hour” float around in the air gaining their own weight and presence.
One could posit that I am channeling the White Rabbit and that my very energetic self has something important to get to. Me, I’m just strolling along, watching, as another me runs frantically by, ticking away.
I wonder where they are all going these other me’s, do they ever stop? Do they in some way keep my world running smoothly? In a clockwork universe are they the gears that keep me alive? In this daydream do I see the internal workings of my life?
I am watching from the outside throughout the days of my life; slave to the tyranny of time.
