"You take my place in the showdown; I observe with a pitiful eye."
I have just awakened from a dream; I don't remember what was in it, only that it was full of mundane affairs. But when I awoke from it I saw the world tinted with something, the same tint that permeated the whole dream and made it so insufferable. Waking was like a continuation of the dream, as there was nothing particularly noteworthy in the dream, which could be but defined by its insupportable atmosphere, an atmosphere of disjointedness with whatever that has been happening around me for these years of my life. It was an atmosphere that I had experience never before in my dreams, but upon waking I felt that I was intricately linked to a whole other series of dreams that I had, a whole series of dream-spaces - but those I do not recall now with clarity but with an alien colouring that transmutes these dreams into extrapolations of the one I just had.
The said atmosphere is not something oppressive, just disjointed and confusing; a sense of continuity has been lost, with all that I have seen and felt all along, and my sense of being on the timeline of my life. The lebens-feeling is not the same anymore; I cannot remember the past anymore, or describe the world I live in, except through glasses tinted with the colours of that dream. I tried to remind myself of the country I live in, the things that I did yesterday, and the faces of my friends, but everything seemed distant and invisible save through the glasses of my recent dream.
I seem to be currently existing in my city, my city as I purportedly have always seen it in my dreams over the years (as my recent dream would have it), of which what would immediately spring to the mind would be the the same old imaginary subway station named after Robert Burns (which has been recurring in my dreams over the years, each time appearing in exactly the same form); the green trishaw that covertly took me speeding along the shoulder of the Pan-Island Expressway; my school, waffle-shaped with courtyards for cavities, and with round white streetlamps and the imaginary zebra crossing where a dark-skinned English teacher would always take her pupils to cross; the two-storey cafe on a hill in the woods north of the city (cafes are always north of the city) where I had been to on separate occasions with J_sh__, Y_w__, and my Japanese class, and where I once saw snow; the cold, sinister undersea tunnel near the airport where military enlistees were ordered to strip; the recurring malls, shops, gardens and dim sum restaurants that never existed in real life... But this time a dream comes and claims brotherhood and lordship over them all; its atmosphere colours and perverts the memory of its predecessors, such that every one of them seems to be a tentacular extension of this one that were sent back in time to act as heralds for the one that was coming, the one that was simultaneously the youngest brother and the eldest, one that would rupture your conception of your lebensraum such that you would be unable to see anything but through its monopoly. Everything would be plus or minus a few buildings along the same street, albeit the fact that this final time has seen a few new additions: Firefox tabs shaped like skyscrapers in Kuala Lumpur, a tunnel that leads to Australia, and then more tunnels on the Australian side. But then everything is nevertheless the same, described within the same template, the same places that extend down to each other, and define alternatively but essentially the space I live in.
The said atmosphere is not something oppressive, just disjointed and confusing; a sense of continuity has been lost, with all that I have seen and felt all along, and my sense of being on the timeline of my life. The lebens-feeling is not the same anymore; I cannot remember the past anymore, or describe the world I live in, except through glasses tinted with the colours of that dream. I tried to remind myself of the country I live in, the things that I did yesterday, and the faces of my friends, but everything seemed distant and invisible save through the glasses of my recent dream.
I seem to be currently existing in my city, my city as I purportedly have always seen it in my dreams over the years (as my recent dream would have it), of which what would immediately spring to the mind would be the the same old imaginary subway station named after Robert Burns (which has been recurring in my dreams over the years, each time appearing in exactly the same form); the green trishaw that covertly took me speeding along the shoulder of the Pan-Island Expressway; my school, waffle-shaped with courtyards for cavities, and with round white streetlamps and the imaginary zebra crossing where a dark-skinned English teacher would always take her pupils to cross; the two-storey cafe on a hill in the woods north of the city (cafes are always north of the city) where I had been to on separate occasions with J_sh__, Y_w__, and my Japanese class, and where I once saw snow; the cold, sinister undersea tunnel near the airport where military enlistees were ordered to strip; the recurring malls, shops, gardens and dim sum restaurants that never existed in real life... But this time a dream comes and claims brotherhood and lordship over them all; its atmosphere colours and perverts the memory of its predecessors, such that every one of them seems to be a tentacular extension of this one that were sent back in time to act as heralds for the one that was coming, the one that was simultaneously the youngest brother and the eldest, one that would rupture your conception of your lebensraum such that you would be unable to see anything but through its monopoly. Everything would be plus or minus a few buildings along the same street, albeit the fact that this final time has seen a few new additions: Firefox tabs shaped like skyscrapers in Kuala Lumpur, a tunnel that leads to Australia, and then more tunnels on the Australian side. But then everything is nevertheless the same, described within the same template, the same places that extend down to each other, and define alternatively but essentially the space I live in.