Header photo by Ramesh NG under Creative Commons 3.0.
Last night I dreamt of a wilfully sleepless night. I wasn’t even at home; I spent the entire time wandering the streets with people I knew. We had an objective, one I no longer remember. I walked streets I haven’t walked at night for years. People wandered across the empty roads as if they’d been closed off for whatever we were doing, or perhaps a festival that hadn’t yet ended. I wandered streets. I even climbed a mountain that rose seemingly out of nowhere. It stretched and contorted every time I held onto it; this made climbing it so much more easier. There was another person climbing with me. Climbing this mountain appeared to be a casual thing; even as I looked down on the clouds separating me and land, I only made passing comments about issues completely unrelated. It was like I was climbing a marshmallow. Like I was simply a figment of a child’s imagination.
I climbed down only a minute after reaching the peak. I’d watched day turn to night and I would continue through the night and tomorrow until I really had to sleep. This thought likely flowed through the entire community of people I’d seen walking. Everybody was awake. The sun was rising as I descended slowly from the mountain. Dawn was spent yet again pacing the streets still devoid of any vehicles. I didn’t think much of this. I didn’t care; my stamina was infinite and I was going to use it all up. I’d never felt so awake.
I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing at that point. I was beginning to get hungry. I wanted to eat at a certain restaurant (the same place I’d go to tomorrow, or today. It was some good food.) There was something stopping me and I wasn’t sure what. I broke the restraints and made my way there. And that’s all I remember.