Once again, you run into one of those abstractions. The dark alleys, the numerous improbable union of structures, characters and moments come together squeezed into a plot of tiny imagination. The plane is real. The voices are real. The curtain rises and I enter for real. I recognize the objects around me, I gave them familiar faces so as to comfort me. But there is a strange resistance in the way they looked. Their emotions are not mine and I didn’t know.
All of a sudden it seems the entire creation will turn against their creator. The only thing you hold dear to is going to be lost. There is a strong desire in them to see me suffer, to bear the pain of loss and feel the hollowness of an empty body devoid of its soul. And I am not sure if what they wish is right. For there are faces that have taught me the banal theories of good and bad. How did I create all of them to make me loose once again? What would be the moral win of resisting them? Or what shall I loose within this figment of imagination by agreeing to them?
The strange world of dreams is sometimes even more painful than what the real world can inflict upon you. For this pain is self created, through our own interpretations of the concrete realities, but the magnitude of the pain is incomprehensible at the beginning as they start to unfold based upon the unknown desires you had kept suppressed deep into the dark alleys of your otherwise outer cerebral cortex.
Indeed, it is these intersecting layers of being in dream and being awake which make this state of human mind interesting and worth exploring. Probably surrealism or abstraction is what stems from here. Take this for instance – you need to make a very important call. You are sitting at the desk where the telephone is and no one in this world understands the urgency of making this call better than you. 2 minutes have passed and you have been itching to dial the number. Suddenly you look at the mirror and you see in you a look of being irresponsible, as if missing out on something that was heavenly important, for you know, deep within somewhere on a different plane – your desk phone doesn’t exist.