I float dreamily on the green, green Caribbean in my inflatable donut. But something doesn't feel right. The world feels compressed and one dimensional... I don't feel I'm really there. Some toy, I am, Living and moving on a grid. My movements are all planned out, everything I do and say. I don't control me, But everything seems to be on the right track, whatever that is. I don't need to think, because my mouth and limbs move freely, controlled by some force. I somehow know what's gonna happen next in this story. I know something's going to happen, but not when. It could be any moment now. I'll be whisked from these torquouise waters, and into some different setting. And I won't even sense the difference. I might meet friends or people I've never seen before. I might fall through a trap door. I might encounter monsters, but all of this is not what I plan out. It just happens. I'm a puppet, even in the pleasure of floating here on the green ocean with the light patterns criss-crossing the waves.
Is this some sort of disease? Am I starting to invision things? Why does the world feel so twisted and unreal?
But, ah, I've been here before. I've had this very same lethargic, uncontrolled sensation before. Nothing dangerous. Sometimes you wish you could just escape it, which you sometimes can, and sometimes you wish the paradise would never end.
But I am not capable of thinking about when this will end at the moment. My mind is blank, only registering the water and sky and sun. All a scam. I'm content here, but in no time I will be whisked away to somewhere else, a movie theater, perhaps, and my limbs will spring to action.
This is the best life. You can't die. There are no laws of the earth. You can teleport. You can fly. Everything you've ever wanted. And sometimes the stresses of real life will sneak in to your relief world, and spoil it. At these times you can't fly. You become a bird weighed down by a stone.
But in this episode, everything seems to be going alright. Until...Until...Something is going to ruin this. It always does.
And always for a reason.
I am floating in these fake waters, probably because of the beach I had whent to yesterday, but it won't last long. I feel a tiny movement, coming from a great distance, and...suddenly close...
something brushes my finger. A shark, maybe? To late. My vision blurrs. The paradise seems less real then it already was. I'm loosing consciousness, but am regaining my ability to think. I remember.
Then, the feelings kick in.
Oh, please, no! I was in heaven. I don't want to come back!
I am teleported through that void of time when you are nighther awake or asleep. My senses are yanked from dreamland and blurred in confusion as I come to focus and enter my real body, enter reality. To late. To late. I'm already here. No turning back. I have to face the day. As I find myself and open my eyes, I encounter a furry face; eyes right up to mine. whiskers tickling. Oh. The shark. Was this why I had been dragged out of dreamland? For a cat to say good morning and remind me it was breakfast time? It was sweet of her. But I was not ready to get up and work. Desperatly I squeezed my eyes shut and closed my senses, burying through my mind to find the last traces of my dream, but nothing remained. I couldn't even remember what I'd been doing in the dream. Interference had come in too quickly. There had been no time to think it through, the problem of the cat in my face had rushed in and derailed my thinking. The dream was gone.
If, probably god, gave us the automatic ability to wake from dreamland, then it is for a reason. Rise and shine. You can only make a difference on the real world if you get up and get to work. And of course,
There's always tomorrow night.
Quote: You are what you dream...