Sweet dreams aren't made of this...
Just woke up from a rather odd dream, perhaps a nightmare.
Recalling events before the "breaking point" of the dream proves fruitless, for the small portion returning to me will have to suffice:
My memory begins in one of several tall skyscrapers, side by side, in a very large city (perhaps the size of New York City). There seems to be some sort of unspoken war occurring between the inhabitants of two of the skyscrapers, which happen to be directly across the street from each other. I recall a small bomb having been planted by a particular inhabitant of the opposing skyscraper. I notice this somehow, and make arrangements for it to be returned inconspicuously to those who sent it. There is a call. Demands are made. Once I recognize the bomb has been "returned" without notice, I taunt the individual, increasing his ire. He loses it. The bomb blows up the first level of the opposing skyscraper. I end the call.
Somehow, I find myself outside my living quarters, approximately 70 stories up. There is a balcony. Someone to whom I am supposed to be married sits next to me, typing fervently on her laptop. She notices my distress and asks if she can help. I dismiss her attempts, returning to a particular sense of helplessness. This is what the world has become, I think to myself.
(In real life, I tend to be rather acrophobic, so what happened next just stunned me. I still remember it vividly.)
Somehow, the balconies between the two skyscrapers extend to within 2 feet of each other, an exact match. I straddle the railings between the two, holding on to the railings with my hands as well.
I look down. This seems normal. My acrophobia grips me tightly, refusing to yield. Vertigo sets in. I envision myself hitting the ground. I can't let go. I feel the adrenaline overtake me, the complete fright response it provokes. I feel sharp pains through the palms of my hands and the soles of my feet. This lasts seemingly forever.
Finally, a friend with whom I completed the "mission" steps onto the balcony, noticing my condition. He desperately approaches me, telling me to return to safety. I can't. He pulls me back. I am "safe", but I still don't feel it.
I wake up. I still feel the pains through my hands and feet.
Recalling events before the "breaking point" of the dream proves fruitless, for the small portion returning to me will have to suffice:
My memory begins in one of several tall skyscrapers, side by side, in a very large city (perhaps the size of New York City). There seems to be some sort of unspoken war occurring between the inhabitants of two of the skyscrapers, which happen to be directly across the street from each other. I recall a small bomb having been planted by a particular inhabitant of the opposing skyscraper. I notice this somehow, and make arrangements for it to be returned inconspicuously to those who sent it. There is a call. Demands are made. Once I recognize the bomb has been "returned" without notice, I taunt the individual, increasing his ire. He loses it. The bomb blows up the first level of the opposing skyscraper. I end the call.
Somehow, I find myself outside my living quarters, approximately 70 stories up. There is a balcony. Someone to whom I am supposed to be married sits next to me, typing fervently on her laptop. She notices my distress and asks if she can help. I dismiss her attempts, returning to a particular sense of helplessness. This is what the world has become, I think to myself.
(In real life, I tend to be rather acrophobic, so what happened next just stunned me. I still remember it vividly.)
Somehow, the balconies between the two skyscrapers extend to within 2 feet of each other, an exact match. I straddle the railings between the two, holding on to the railings with my hands as well.
I look down. This seems normal. My acrophobia grips me tightly, refusing to yield. Vertigo sets in. I envision myself hitting the ground. I can't let go. I feel the adrenaline overtake me, the complete fright response it provokes. I feel sharp pains through the palms of my hands and the soles of my feet. This lasts seemingly forever.
Finally, a friend with whom I completed the "mission" steps onto the balcony, noticing my condition. He desperately approaches me, telling me to return to safety. I can't. He pulls me back. I am "safe", but I still don't feel it.
I wake up. I still feel the pains through my hands and feet.