My body hums with energy as I lie on my side. I close my eyes and look away from my thoughts. When I open them again, I see the shadows have taken shape. In the darkness, I can barely make out the shape of a small robot standing in front of the window. He looks like that blue and white robot from Star Wars, R2D2. I blink my eyes, knowing it is only a hallucination. When I open them again, there are two of the little robots stacked on top of each other. It looks like my vision has been layered, with the second hallucination identical to, but offset from the first.
My body vibrates again with another wave, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I open my eyes again, and see the robots have been replaced by the shadow of an impossibly tall, thin humanoid creature. He is silhouetted in moonlight filtering through the curtains. He wears a loose, hooded robe that conceals everything but his long spidery fingers. I try to pull back the covers to get out of bed, but find I can not move. In my mind's eye, I can see myself getting out of bed, but my body stays stubbornly paralyzed. The scene plays several times, as if on a loop. Finally, I reach out my hand to ask the tall creature by my bed for help. It slowly lifts one arm, and wraps its long spidery fingers around my outstretched hand. Its dark skin is tough and calloused, but velvety and warm, like the pads on a cat's paw. I expect it to lift me out of bed, but instead it just reassuringly caresses my hand.
I struggle to roll backwards out of my body. It takes a few attempts before I awkwardly fall out of myself. I find myself lying, face down, on top of my girlfriend. My body is ethereal, like a ghost, so I am half merged with her sleeping body. I can feel her breathing and heartbeat separate from my own. Her energy feels anxious and antsy. I try to give her my calm and loving emotions before climbing off (and out of) her. I still feel paralyzed and stiff as I struggle to crawl away from my bedroom. Eventually I make it out the door, and into my front courtyard. In the darkness, I drag myself towards the front gate.
Before I reach the gate, I am suddenly surrounded by sunlight. I am on my back floating weightlessly through the air. I watch the clear blue sky above filtering through the rustling canopy of trees. I am whisked along, unable to see where I am or where I am going. I can see every leaf clearly, and marvel at how real and stable everything seems.
It doesn't last more than a moment before I find myself back in bed. The tall, spindly creature still stands inches away from my bed, watching me from the darkness. Knowing I must be still in the dream, I try to get out of bed. My body is still paralyzed, so I relax and take a deep breath. I can hear voices in the distance. I give them my attention and they become clear.
It sounds like a talk radio program discussing border politics. The law granting citizenship to children born on U.S. soil has caused financial strain for hospitals near the border. They can't keep up with all the births. A new proposed law will grant citizenship to any child born within a certain distance of the border. This will help shift some of the burden back to Mexican hospitals.
As I listen to this, I find myself floating along a freeway on-ramp. I follow the cars onto the freeway, flying just above them. Chain link fencing topped with barbed wire lines one side of the highway. The other side is a sheer cliff that drops into a beautiful, rocky mountain valley. I see the mountain in the distance, and fly towards it. Its cliffs look like an old quarry, with scrub trees clinging to the rocky cracks. My vision seems super sharp. The mountain is far away, on the horizon, but I can see every detail clearly. I can count the leaves on the trees, and see the bugs climbing through the cracks in it's rocky cliffs. I must be flying faster than I thought, because before I know it, I have passed the mountain, and am headed towards another.
This one stands above a beautiful, still mountain lake. Bright, afternoon sunlight reflects, white, off the deep blue water. I fly lower to splash my fingertips as I zoom along. I imagine all the fantastic creatures lying just below its mirrored surface. Lake creatures, sleeping dragons, beautiful sirens, and forgotten prehistoric creatures. I fly down into the water gradually, like a sea plane landing. As I pass below the surface, everything goes dark. Frightened the dream may fade, I quickly come up out of the water.
In that split second of darkness, the entire scene has changed. The lake has become an ocean bay, and the mountain is now snow capped and icy. Fantastic rock formations cover its slopes. Natural white stone bridges, pinnacles, and stacked boulders. I fly along the choppy bay, towards a giant rock formation whose peak juts from the surface of the ocean. As I near it, I see it is the petrified remains of the San Francisco Bay Bridge. The steel has been covered in white ash, and hardened to stone. Only the top of the tower remains above sea level. I see the Golden Gate bridge in the distance, also half submerged and somehow fossilized to white stone. I now recognize the strange mountain rock formations as what is left of the San Francisco skyline. I imagine this must be the future, after the ice caps have melted and the sea level risen. I feel immense, uncontrollable sadness, and begin to cry. I start to sing a song I have never heard before,
"My heart sings a hymn
for what was lost..."
I land on a small island in the bay. Only the peak of it stands above the water, snow covered and icy like a glacier. A gigantic pipe extends out of the island, buried in the rock and ice. It is big enough for a truck to drive through, and I know it leads to a subterranean system of tunnels below. I begin to walk into the tunnel, hesitating briefly at the edge of the light. A pair of eyes appear from deep within the tunnel, and a huge hulking white form lumbers from out of the wall of darkness. I find myself face to face with a giant polar bear. Standing on all fours, it is still twice as tall as me. Its hot breath steams in the frozen air, and I crane my neck to meet its eyes.
"Hello sir." I manage to say. It looks as startled as I am, but friendly and wise. "Hello." It responds carefully, "I was just on my way out." I continue, "I would like to explore your den. I promise not to take any of your food, and will be gone before you return. Would that be alright with you?" It thinks for a moment, then continues slowly, "I don't know. That doesn't sound like a very good idea." It seems to be stalling, trying to think of a good excuse.
I hear knocking. It gets louder, and more frantic. Someone is pounding on the front door of my house. A muffled voice is calling from the other side of the door. I know it must be a hallucination, but it sounds very real. The voice sounds like my girlfriend's mother. I am back in bed, but still totally paralyzed. I consider my options, then decide this is a good time to record the dream, anyways. I open my eyes, and am surprised to see the tall, spooky, hooded creature is still standing over me. I struggle against the paralysis to move. I see him shift his weight to his other foot when I open my eyes. I know he knows that I am awake. I reach for my flashlight and dream journal. I act casual, then suddenly point the light at the hooded figure, and flip it on, trying to catch myself (and him) off guard. Nothing happens. I click the switch a few times, before realizing this is a false awakening. The pounding is still coming from the front door. I close my eyes again, then open them and know I am really awake. There is nothing standing in front of the window. Just long shadows from the moonlight filtering through the curtains.
