[NON BLOG] My Last Dream
Apr. 16th, 2005 01:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rfmcdonaldTwo people on my Livejournal friends list have written about their disturbing recent dreams. I have no idea whether I dream on a regular basis or not; I can readily imagine that I do dream but I forget everything.
The dream began with me on a seacoast, standing on a cliff. The climate was fairly dry, and the sky was a bit overcast though still bright. I remember thinking how beautiful the Pacific Ocean was, and comparing what I saw--the igneous rock cliffs flecked with quartz, the conifer forests worn down into scraggling bushes, the rocks offshore--to the British Columbia painted by Emily Carr. Reality was much sharper, possessing more fine-grained detail, that Carr's abstractions.
Swimming featured prominently. I swim; or, at least, I swam, breaking into the upper ranks of the YMCA's classification system before I abandoned it at 14. (Adolescence, again.) I knew that the water below was trecherous, filled with currents and rocks and somewhat chill even in the body suit. I still wanted to swim.
Someone else was with me, at this particular square kilometre of coastline, a man my age. I knew him and we were friends, though I suspect more casually than otherwise. Where I was timid, he was energetic,
I don't remember how I descended into the water--the cliffs were almost vertical, and I don't remember there being any paths. I ended up in the water nonetheless, comfortable enough in my wetsuit and alternating between a backstroke and an unenergetic breaststroke. The currents pulled me steadily away from the rocky shoreline.
Distantly, I saw my fellow swimmer scramble to swim away from something. I thought it another rocky island at first, but then I began to see inside the object, down its gullet. I realized it was a monstrous shark. He escaped; I languished on the water, unenergetically drifting towards the creature. Somehow, I just didn't have the energy to contest my drift, and I wans't upset. Things were just going to end. The last thing that I remembered thinking, as I saw the great maw moving towards me, the interior of the shark's mouth taking on more and more detail, was how unutterably sad this new future of mine would be.
That's when I woke up.
I don't remember my dreams, if I do dream at all. This may be a good thing.
The dream began with me on a seacoast, standing on a cliff. The climate was fairly dry, and the sky was a bit overcast though still bright. I remember thinking how beautiful the Pacific Ocean was, and comparing what I saw--the igneous rock cliffs flecked with quartz, the conifer forests worn down into scraggling bushes, the rocks offshore--to the British Columbia painted by Emily Carr. Reality was much sharper, possessing more fine-grained detail, that Carr's abstractions.
Swimming featured prominently. I swim; or, at least, I swam, breaking into the upper ranks of the YMCA's classification system before I abandoned it at 14. (Adolescence, again.) I knew that the water below was trecherous, filled with currents and rocks and somewhat chill even in the body suit. I still wanted to swim.
Someone else was with me, at this particular square kilometre of coastline, a man my age. I knew him and we were friends, though I suspect more casually than otherwise. Where I was timid, he was energetic,
I don't remember how I descended into the water--the cliffs were almost vertical, and I don't remember there being any paths. I ended up in the water nonetheless, comfortable enough in my wetsuit and alternating between a backstroke and an unenergetic breaststroke. The currents pulled me steadily away from the rocky shoreline.
Distantly, I saw my fellow swimmer scramble to swim away from something. I thought it another rocky island at first, but then I began to see inside the object, down its gullet. I realized it was a monstrous shark. He escaped; I languished on the water, unenergetically drifting towards the creature. Somehow, I just didn't have the energy to contest my drift, and I wans't upset. Things were just going to end. The last thing that I remembered thinking, as I saw the great maw moving towards me, the interior of the shark's mouth taking on more and more detail, was how unutterably sad this new future of mine would be.
That's when I woke up.
I don't remember my dreams, if I do dream at all. This may be a good thing.
