Dream

I had a dream where my palms were cut with its wounds still open, the flesh felt burnt and sliced where lay pulsing a volcano of red goo, now near the whole length of my arms tired and wet, and some of my teeth felt missing, gums sore still as if from a fresh extraction, and the inside of my mouth tasted raw and rotting, the base of my throat clogged with a huge collection of phlegm so every word I sought to articulate verbally came out a tormented grumble. I was in my bed, yes, the same brown sheets and melancholic curtains, but in this dream it felt nothing like home, it was unfamiliar, cold and detached from any recognizable feeling, my eyes sticky with dry moist, my vision in question as colors of the background blurred to make a gloomy canvas. Now I felt conscious and knew it was a dream, my insight and mental grip underailed, but the body and house had ceased to become accommodating, as if now I had been caged, to a physique fast depleting and a place robbed of its meaning. When I finally wake up, I see my palms OK. I manage a soft fist and stretch my toes, and this day will proceed as any other day would, yet something has been altered, a part of the dream as made its way here. I feel sick but show no obvious symptoms, and am impaired with an invincible disease. I feel immobile, mournful as if weighed by a deep loss, how the aspects of being awake and functional can hide themselves, obscured by the need to keep journeying, how this is my quiet surrender, killing of the self hurts and makes itself apparent only in my dreams. There, my real existence is put naked, lay bleeding and distraught, almost dead- but not quite there.

...

Note.

1. This will hopefully be my last installment, in the Existential Crisis: I Really Don't Need This series. Everytime I open a blank page,I am tempted to put all my worries and sadness on show,but I don't deserve to do this,and the best I can do is suppress this into a form of fiction,or put another way,I don't enjoy reading about other people's petty troubles or hearing them whine about dumb things,so I've opted to channel this creatively,but hope it doesn't dominate what I write.