Empty Set

Last night, I had yet another dream about the festival from January, but…it felt very different.

It felt like my current self. I was there, but it didn’t feel like I was really truly there: I was fully aware of the fact that I was dreaming, that every person I was was an illusion, that I wasn’t there; that it had already happened and I was living in a memory. It was over. I’d had the time of my life, and I was really back home, dreaming in my own bed. I was on the other side of the thought running through my head at the time, that some day it would all be a memory. Continue reading

PERMUTATION

Cropped header image is my own photo. (It’s just a phone camera snap from last year, nothing professional.)

I’ve been exhausted as ever lately. I’m busy as I said, but my workload hasn’t let up like I thought it would, and at this point, even typing with perfect grammar and capitalisation is taking a little bit of energy. At the start of last month, I went to a music and gaming festival in the USA, flying from England. I had no rest at all after flying home, of course, but enough about exhaustion.

Ever since then, nearly every single dream I’ve had has been about that festival, and I can count on one hand the dreams I’ve had that haven’t been about, and even then, those all came after a literal one month solid block of nothing but dreams about it and the various aspects of everything about the trip. Continue reading

Snowfall II

Cropped header image by Sharnikarnikhil88.

I’ve had many dreams about snowfall, and I’ve posted about many, but every single time I can’t help but be overcome by the atmosphere. The wonderful rush of excitement from just looking around, the joyful looks on everyone’s faces, the gentle snowfall that only comes once every few years, the lights on the buildings that show when night falls. I remember a Christmas festival on a high street in a nearby town I was very familiar with. It wasn’t a memory of a real event, but as a memory it works almost as well as one. It was mid-December, the best time of the year for such a festival. After shopping at a nearby clothing store and a brief stop in another shop to switch coats out of the cold, I was wearing a stylish slim white winter jacket with faux-fur lining in places; not my style at all usually, but in this dream it felt amazing to wear, a welcome change from what I usually have. From here until afternoon it was as it always is in festivals – exploring, buying, sightseeing. One sight that I particularly remember was a church spire at late morning covered in snow and Christmas lights barely visible in the daylight yet still visible.

Daylight started to fade mid-afternoon. I remember an orange sunset between 3 and 4pm that drew almost as much attention as the Christmas lights it exposed. By 5pm it was completely dark and the lights and lamp-posts were all there was for visibility. Light snow continued to fall and people continued to wander the street, and none of the stalls were showing any signs of packing up and leaving. This was the highlight of the event; the busy hour, their perfect white Christmas. The next day was a letdown compared to this, but I still remember my last snow-covered sight before I turned around to go home, of the stalls on the street, the houses and their lights on the rooves, converging towards the horizon.

It’s been years since it snowed here. I know it brings this country to a standstill, but if it ever happened again I’d definitely appreciate it.

Mist and Lanterns

Header image by Miya.m under Creative Commons 3.0.

I woke up on the high point of a lush meadow on an island; just from vision and periphery I could tell the island was still a respectable size but I was on the edge either way. I didn’t remember much, but one of the few things I did know was that I lived here, and so far this was just another morning. I looked out towards the horizon, and saw floating islands in the distance through the fog. I’m not sure if they qualified for islands, though. They were large pieces of land, but there was no ocean – just a hazy white void populated by similar large pieces of land.

When I looked up, I saw that the one I was on was chained to a much larger island beside it – seemingly populated as there were buildings visible, and lights on the distant edge. I hadn’t really been there much – the city didn’t particularly suit me very well, though I did know how to get there. The void ferryman was a nice person, so I was never particularly apprehensive about the trip anyway. Before I did that, though, I just had to take a walk around my home island. The flowers looked particularly nice today; a walk through the field would be worth it. Continue reading

Remember Me

Header image by Peter Trimming under Creative Commons 2.0.

We met face-to-face for the first time that day. It was at a festival at something more of an expanse than a field, people too numerous to even begin to attempt to quantify; surely there were others I had known weaving through the crowds. They would all have been visible under the radiant sun. It was only from a past life I knew him, and he thought me to be long-gone, which was true – at least to him. I hadn’t seem him since either but I’d known him well while we still talked. He’d never known what I looked like, nor anything that could have identified me instantly.  Continue reading

Festival in the Field of Nowhere

Photo by Wikimedia user Juliancolton

Public domain header photo by Juliancolton.

I still vaguely remember a dream I had nearly a week ago. There was a festival going on in a field I’m not sure I’ve seen before. It was as good as any festival you’d find in real life. There were stalls for nearly everything, and I remember there being arcade cabinets hooked up to portable power supplies. The organisers must have been feeling particularly confident about the weather. Continue reading