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• 1980-06-16
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• 2003-07-31
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• Do you think a guy like me ever accomplishes anything?
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• Sci Fi network first played Akira in the nineties
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• Cowboy Bebop
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• Don Juan, eat your heart out!




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myOtaku.com: Heavens Cloud


Tuesday, October 26, 2004



And We All Float On…

It is hard waking up when it is cold. Or, rather, it is hard getting out of bed. When I woke up this morning my room wasn’t just cool, it was frosty. So instead of hoping right out of bed I cocooned myself between my comforter and, while drifting somewhere between a dream and consciousness, listened to the BBC.

I guess that the volume of the radio or the abrasive voice of the broadcaster mingled with my subconscious, because it seemed as if I was dreaming the news. Instead of simply hearing the events I was watching them unfold, or rather imagining them unfold. I saw Prince Henry hit a pesky paparazzi then melt away into a hail of gunfire in Iraq. It was very unnerving and as soon as I regained consciousness I leapt out of bed, fleeing from my own imagination.

I have always been plagued by vivid dreams. When I talk about them with friends, family and acquaintances they always seem slightly envious of them. Sometimes I am not sure that they should be. Sure, most of them are relatively easy to wake up from, and while impressions of them dance through my memory, nothing about them seems real after I wake. Once or twice a week, however, I have real dreams, dreams that only become dreams when my alarm clocks (I actually have two that go off nearly simultaneously) wrench me out of slumber. Quite often I am all too relieved to be yanked back into reality. My nightmares aren’t always horrifying (although I have had a few), instead they are usually just a frightening, slightly obscured view of reality. Sometimes I just don’t want to wake up; sometimes my dreams are much more comforting than reality. When my alarm interrupts these dreams I often lay in bed for awhile in a vain attempt to recapture them.

I don’t know why I become so attached to some of my dreams, but I do. I can vividly remember dreams that I had when I was eleven years old as if they were factual memories. Perhaps I should blame my dreams how surreal my waking life often feels.




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