Dreamscapes & Heartbreaks: Dream 10

riskdebonair (67)in #fiction • 8 years ago (edited)

Five years? Seven years? A day?

When I read over this text from years ago, I realised that everything seemed the same. Moments of the past were still in occurrence. Things that had happened would happen again. I could see it all coming, because it had already happened before. I could never tell the difference between past, present, and future. How can I justify the finite in an infinite universe? I cannot comprehend time. All I see is story. And it has always been the same story; a story of dreamscapes and heartbreaks.

No closure. No escape. Just forever eternal dreamscapes and heartbreaks. It’s a repeating story embedded in every dream. The story varies in guise, coming in many shapes and sizes. But it’s always the same.

He opens his eyes. His hands lay lifeless in front of him. A red hue saturates his hands. He struggles to move, but his body does not respond. He can hear the crackling sound of a fire burning all around him. The heat from the flames makes him sleepy. His eyes begin to close. Everything goes a brownish red. He can’t go on… but he manages to open his eyes just enough to glimpse his blurry lifeless hands. His eyes close, and he struggles to open them. He is being drained. There is nothing to do but to give in. The fire begins to do more than warm his body. He is being slowly cooked. He lies there with his head against the warm ground and his arms stretched out in front of him as if he was struggling to move. His right hand jerks. He manages to open his eyes. The fire around him is growing stronger. He does not want it to end like this. His right hand jerks once more, and then he manages to raise the index finger on his left hand. He can’t feel his body, but he forces it to move. With great vigour he strikes his right palm onto the warm concrete beneath him, and he pushes. He does the same with his left hand, and the more he raises himself the more control of his body he regains. As he pushes himself upwards he stretches out his spine and finds that his legs are still working. He uses his shaking arms to balance himself as he places the weight of his body onto his left leg, and then onto the right leg as he raises himself to a standing position. He doesn’t have time to orientate himself, the flames are too much when standing, and so he stumbles through them while shielding his face. With each step he takes, blood pumps through his body reinvigorating him. He escapes through the flames and is greeted with cold cold cold air. He falls to his knees. He screams. His screaming reaches its crescendo as he clenches his fists and raises his arms above his head. Behind him is the burning wreckage he has escaped from, and in front of him is a city in flames…

Upon a crumbling overpass he stares at the city in flames. The burning wreckage behind him provides the only source of heat. The sky is dark, blanketed by thick blood orange clouds spitting fire down to the cold ash covered earth. Skyscrapers that once glorified the height of man now loom over the city, slowly crumbling, falling apart piece by piece. A scream resonates from the burning city. From flashes of images he remembers a woman. He must get to her, he must save her. He’s cold but he has no time to worry about staying warm, he has to keep moving. The overpass is quickly crumbling. A slight breeze is all it takes to destroy this friable structure. He looks left and he looks right. Both sides of the overpass have fallen apart. He knows he has to jump to escape. He walks over to the side of the overpass. He looks behind to take one more look at the burning wreckage he has escaped from. It means something, but he can’t figure it out at this moment. He is too disorientated. He looks down. It is a 30 foot drop to the road below. He hears her scream in the distance once more. He knows there is no other way. He jumps. As he hits the ground he rolls to disperse the energy of the fall. He is unsure of whether he has hurt himself or not. He does not feel pain. He does not feel anything apart from the cold cold cold air. With caution he walks placing one foot in front of the other to insure that both of his legs are still operational. The walk soon turns into a jog, and then into a sprint. He is sprinting towards the city. The ash covered road is littered with burnt-out vehicles, and charred corpses. Each time he plants a foot down it leaves an imprint on the ash covered road. His right shoe is missing; another detail, another facet to remember as he shoots down the highway heading straight for the centre of the city. What does it mean? The burning wreckage… the missing shoe… both incidents are connected, and the screaming woman… He stops briefly when he hears the screams once more. He uses this brief moment to take stock of the landscape. Nothing stands in his way apart from wrecked vehicles which will be no problem to get around. Fires are intermittently dispersed around the highway and seemingly in the city more concentrated. The fires provide the only source of heat. Where did these infernos come from? Why is it so cold? He starts to sprint again, occasionally leaping over any obstacle that comes between him and the city. Nothing will stop him from getting to her. Nothing.

…

The tunnel entrance/exit that leads out towards the area of the wooden city docks was blocked. It had caved in. I was with a group of people thankfully. It was dark with no daylight escaping inwards. We had minimal lighting which brought out the redness of the rocky walls. I walked around inspecting our situation hoping that someone would come up with an idea. But no one could figure out what to do. There was some sort of machine in this tunnel entrance. It had something to do with water collection; it was some sort of flood release system. I normally wouldn’t mess around with such things but with no way out I saw no choice. I had been trapped here for so long, and wanted to get out. I told everyone to stand back onto higher ground as I began to jerk the machine. By cranking a handle I released a wave of water, and then another, and then one more. The tunnel entrance did not open. It was still blocked, but the water that was released washed down towards the entrance and diverted to the side, crumbling one of the walls. I ran over and had a look. It seemed that under the reddish rock there was a structure. A bright red florescent light escaped from this alien looking metal corridor that had been exposed. It was pitch black inside. The florescent red came from some unknown place down the end of this winding corridor. This corridor looked out of place with the rest of the world. I entered.

I was walking down the corridor; industrial basement setting, cold with red painted metal steps. As I walked down the corridor I came to some more steps. At the bottom I saw myself look away from me, and he took a left down the corridor. I ran after because I didn’t want to seem scared, but I was terrified. There was a door on the right, and I was planning on running that way. But I checked the end of the corridor first and looked left. There was no one there. And then I saw what looked like me disappearing out of sight at the end. He was wearing a hat. It was one of my many disguises. I realised then that there must be many me down that corridor, all different versions, and different costumes.

“Oh well! I’ll never catch up!” I pretended to believe so I wouldn’t know I was scared.

I looked away pretending not to see another me in another disguise walking down the corridor, so I looked away real fast.
After all it was nothing exciting, just another corridor going further down. I told myself it looked boring, and that it would be better to check the door on the right. I was of course, scared of bumping into myself. I took the door on the right full speed, almost giving in to my terror. And as I ran through the door I saw myself standing there. I had been waiting for I. And I came for myself, but there were many me, and I couldn’t escape. I descended on myself. I had caught myself trying to sneak past myself. I…

I… in a way to also analyse what it is to actually be human.

I’m happy.

I’ve always been happy, but never this happy. I do not know why it is. I am a ridiculous amount of happy; almost (but thankfully not) overwhelmingly happy. How does someone become so happy? And how can I stop myself from getting any happier? I have a slight fear I will become too happy. I’m so damn high off this happiness. I’m euphoric. I’m in love.

During a solar eclipse I drank a special beverage to talk to her. I wanted to travel to her world of dreams to see her. My subconscious knew I would not be allowed to pass between both worlds as my voracious hedonistic hunger had consumed me. And as expected I immediately vomited. The other person I was with was taken away in a sarcophagus pod. I was left alone to watch the splendour of my own dream world. And so I danced in an attempt to appease the gods for future passage; I knew she always watched me. Time was nothing for her. I did not stop dancing until I melted into the floor. I knew she was impressed. But still refusing to see me, I was once more whispered the cold truth of the universe. That thing I bury in the vault.

Narrator: The Dreamer is constantly trying to escape from the cyclic nature of this dream.
This forces the Dreamer to confront himself.
The Dreamer is definitely beginning to go mad.
Trapped in a repeating dream that you cannot escape from; does that sound familiar?

My Love

I used to be full of words of wonder and awe
Even the most hardened hearts I could thaw
I sit here all spent
Like a commoner uninspired
Wondering where I went
With resolve that has retired

Be it age or perhaps the passage of time?
That has drained my heart and faltered my rhyme?
I wish I cared not
For I care little
For what once burned hot
Is now a heart seeking acquittal

There is nothing to be done and nothing to learn
I was a man who once wrote words that could burn
And from those words some embers remain
And from whence they came they do aspire
Like a phoenix from the ashes I regain
And once again in this heart a raging fire

So I’ll gather my resolve
And climb out from this hole
Now once again I shall warm your soul

Narrator: The Dreamer readies himself after that last heartbreak

A Gentle Autumn Breeze

Lovers reuniting
Fireworks igniting
Silent orgasms echo through the night
A cool tingle in a winter wind
A hot touch in a florescent spring
A sweaty heat wave when summers in
And a gentle autumn breeze

Narrator: The Dreamer is lost in the dreamscape…

Author Unknown

Write me a poem to call my own
Make the Author be unknown
Give me meaning and words so pure
That the most broken hearts they could cure
Do it not for love or for grace
but to raise it to that higher place
Let it be free from heaven descent
That it can release those from their torment
Hurt and suffering, let it have none
That the wrongs of the past may be undone

Narrator: And the Dreamer again attempts again to escape the heartbreak.