Me.
Remapping the Human Soul.
Friday, December 28, 2007
I have often received good remarks regarding the size of my imagination, and I've always enjoyed these. My imagination allows me to see things many others can't - I am able to see everything around me at different angles of perception, allowing me to reach a high level of "thinking outside the box". Yes, I have always been proud of my imagination.
Despite the many, many advantages to having a large imagination (a large number of it I did not list here), it can sometimes be a little... overwhelming. And... dare I say it? Yes... Fairly dangerous. My imagination isn't constant: it has its days, where sometimes it may be minimal, and sometimes it just shoots off beyond control. The trouble is... when it shoots off, I have little control of how it can influence my thoughts and actions.
I'll share with you here, something that happened to me a couple of nights back. A little peek into how influential my imagination can be on myself...
It was a mere dream. But the vividness and horror of what I showed myself was something I hope never to feel again:-
It was just me, Gillian and Kimberley. We were seated in some restaurant, enjoying what seemed to be a friendly conversation. Moments later I received a call, and picked it up to find my family was in trouble. I left the two ladies to themselves, got into my car, and drove as fast as I could to aid my family.
Then it all went black.
After a while, an image seemed to appear before my eyes - much like when you're waking up, where your eyes slowly adapt to the light around you, moving from a certain level of blur to a much clearer grasp on the surroundings. I found myself in a coffin, with familiar faces all around me. I wanted to scream, but I felt my voice restrained, my body frozen as my brother closed the coffin lid on me. Only then did my body respond to my commands...
I slammed my fists against the lid, hoping to break it open from the inside. I clawed at the wooden box that held me, and I screamed bloody murder. Yet it seemed like no one outside could hear me... or if they did, they didn't care to get me out. And that's when the scariest part began to unfold...
They were covering my coffin with earth - I was now placed neatly in the allocated hole, and they were burying me. How would you feel if all you could hear was the soft earth pounding against your "sheltered" self? I remember images of my friends and family racing through my mind - like a broken player, the images just kept playing, on and on and on. As the memories ran through my mind, I continued beating against the lid. I felt desperation, such as I've never felt before, and I screamed till my voice was gone. My hands were a bloody mess. My clothes were drenched in my own sweat and blood. My mouth was foaming. My heart was racing, and my lungs were aching. Yes... I was suffocating.
I felt warm tears flowing down my cheeks, and I wondered how the people I cared about could do this to me. I wondered how they could stand there and watch me die under their hands. I wondered if I ever meant anything. I choked on my own saliva, and I watched myself as I gave up hope of getting out. I realized then that I was on the brink of death. And it was truly a painful experience. I felt cheated. I felt wronged. And worst of all... I felt lonely. A loneliness that no words can ever describe. My last breath was here, and for all the pain I felt I cried one last time. I heard myself, loud as thunder... though in truth I could only muster a whisper.
"I'm sorry."
And there I was. I felt myself leave my body. I looked down on myself - pale, not as big as I thought I was, and my smile... none. I no longer had a face - at least, not one I recognized. The features were there, but the essentials were missing. Then I wondered, why did I apologize?
But before the answer could come to me, I felt a stabbing pain in my chest...
That's when I woke up, screaming. I found myself on the floor, next to my bed, drenched in my own sweat. I tried to pick myself up, but I didn't have the energy to. My hands were shaking uncontrollably - and there was a pain in them, as if I had been punching a wall for hours on end. There was a bruise on the left side of my chest. My heart was beating so fast, I would've thought I just ran twenty marathons in a row. Breathing... was difficult. It took almost all my concentration and effort just to breathe properly - it felt like I wasn't getting enough air.
I know that I didn't get off the floor for a fairly long time. When I finally did, my head was spinning in all directions, and there was warm blood flowing out of my nose. When I tried to speak to calm myself down, my mouth moved silently - I didn't have a voice. To top it off... I found myself crying. Tears were just flowing out of my already red eyes. And they just wouldn't stop. I pulled myself back into bed, hoping to get some rest and to reason out what just happened. But every time I closed my eyes, I would wake with a sharp pain in my chest, and my hands would be gripping the bed sheet ever so tightly.
Someone once told me that dreams are the mind's way of telling us the honest, blatant truth - the ones that we often subconsciously overlook, in our attempts to make our lives that much easier to go through. And the more powerful our imagination, the more realistic these dreams become.
No dream of mine has ever been this vivid. No dream of mine has ever had such an effect on my body and mind. And no dream of mine has ever caused me to feel physical pain.
I am a prime example. Of how dangerous the imagination can be.
And I'm afraid.
Given a certain level of thought byAdam Dewind at 8:54 PM
You've walked the darker corridors of The Dreaming. We were always led to believe in the brighter ones. When you walk the darker ones, it means you see negative things in reality.
Tell me then Adam, in our era, where everything is uncertain (Oil Prices, Suicide Bombings, Corruption, Famine, Venereal Diseases, Warfare, Economic Downturns, Environmental Deterioration, etc.), how can we, the future of our nation not look up and despair at the damage wrough by our forefathers and fathers? An uphill battle Adam. We cannot falter.
Believe me Adam, if anyone who would have manage to scrye into the mind of a human being, he / she would go mad.
Though I am afraid of it, I will not say I am not intrigued by it. If so to unlock the many hidden capabilities and messages in our mind would cause us to go insane, then I say: by all means, bring it on.
I agree with you - as of now I don't have much of a positive insight into my surroundings. Dare I say it? Yes, even to my friends (forgive me of these feelings). How does one struggle against it? Once upon a time I thought I knew, and I fought hard for it - most of the time, my efforts bore fruit. But no longer. Nowadays I see myself fighting for a lost cause. Were my efforts misplaced? I don't know. I am used to questioning everything around me, and at the same time providing myself with the adequate research and answers.
No longer.
Is giving up an option? That is a question I continue to seek an answer for.
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