(no subject)
i've always fallen asleep to music. this has been true since i was a young child with a clock radio. my dreams don't feel like mine unless there is a soundtrack that i, try as my lucidly dreaming self might, cannot stop. tonight was no exception. i drifted off hours ago, lulled by the chimes and bells of my favorite pop songs turned lullabyes. And as i lay here, dreaming that i'm typing this all out, my real hands poorly mimicking my much more adept and trained dream hands, i can imagine that the cold i feel outside my blankets on my exposed feet is nothing that music can't fix. melodies roll over my body like a cocoon, each subtle harmonic another layer of warmth that can whisk me away to a more reasonable climate. by tomorrow i'll not be sure whether it took me an hour or fifteen seconds to type all this out. i'll not remember if the screen was in color or monochrome. these are minor details that stay in the other worlds when we cross over. (as an odd consequence of this boundary, right now i just cannot recall whether the waking world comes in more than one color or not... and can i control time there?) BUT! one thing breaks through this wall. the soundtrack to my tossing and turning is still there when i wake up in dream, and it stays with me until i leave the room the next morning. some days it even follows me to work. a soundbridge can cross multiple dimensions, it seems. What beauty we have in our dreams! What beauty that we can take our favorite things across the seas that span that moment when we close our eyes to the moment that we open them without opening them. perhaps our powerful yet innocently young and naive minds realize that if we weren't constantly reminded of the things we love about our waking life, we might just opt to never return.