my blue dream

a dream

I keep having these dreams, I don’t know where inside of me they come from.

Today I remembered a dream I had long ago.

At the time I dreamed it, it had a deep sense of melancholy and of suspension of reality, a sense that followed me even awake.

It was very blue, the dream.

The bluest dream I’ve ever had.

Thats what I remembered first, the feeling of being surrounded by all that blue.

And slowly the dream came back to me.

I was in a state of consciousness, because my body was nowhere in sight of my dreamself’s eyes, and I felt as if I was everywhere, reaching all the shadows and spaces of that odd, blue place.

It was a circular stair, made of something in between marble and cement. I was at the bottom of it, and I could not see where the stairs ended.

The steps and the wall were blue, but I can’t be sure to this day the precise tone of it, because there was a mist, that obscured the truth, a mist that seemed to be made of a darker blue and stellar dust, that gave the image an even bigger illusion, a feel of a dream in a deeper realm of dreams.

I could not see an entry to the bottom where I was either. I couldn’t understand how I came to be where I was.

And so, the conclusion I came on, after a few hours awake (I now recall), was that maybe I have always been there. I think I was born in that blue and endless space.

After the dream, I eventually forgot all about it, but today it came back to me and now I am left with this wonderment about its meaning.

I feel that the dream was my life, seen in its purest sense and form.

Because since I can remember, or since I remember having memory of living, I walk on this earth, and I am in this state of always moving forward, even when I don’t want to, or even when I stay completely still. There is no meaning in trying to go back either, I cannot. There is no doorway in the bottom. And moveless, it is as if there is a wind thats pushes me, making me move regardless of my will. That wind, I think, its Time. So I keep going, without ever seeing where to, but going either way, because the steps go up and up, indefinitely.

Even when I close my eyes now, I can feel the sensation of being there, in those stairs. I don’t remember if there was any smell at all, or simply a conjunction of many indefinable ones, but I recall the sound of running water, as if somewhere outside the room, there was a river flowing (to where? I don’t know, but I think it somehow moved in the same direction that I did). The sound of the water echoed in the circular space, reverberating through my bones and blood, as if it was keeping me alive.

And the more I think about it, the more memories appear. Just now, I consider that there were windows, round windows in the wall. Not along every step, but I imagine that at every few hundred steps, I could see one. I can conjure the precise feeling I had, of looking out the window and seeing something that mesmerised me greatly and that would make me climb the stairs with more certainty and some species of delight, as if what I saw outside had somehow changed me. But then, I would spend a lot of time without any window at all, and I would forget whatever it is that I saw, and I would slow down my steps, and move as if lost. I cannot, no matter with how much effort, remember what it is I saw out there, in the dream. I think, however, that it was the river, and that to see it, reminded me that the sound of the water I heard was real, and therefore so was I. But with a long time without seeing it, I would forget there was anything beyond that room, that stairs and myself. And like that, the cycle would repeat itself, always.

The wind that pushed me didn’t falter, but I don’t remember if I ever reached the end of the stairs. But I don’t think I did. Regardless if in my dream or in my awake life. But I have a deep sense, that goes beyond my comprehension, that I will reach it eventually, whatever expects me in there.

I just hope that its blue, and I hope there are stars. I hope there isn’t any mist, and that I can finally see whatever it is that I saw outside that room that mesmerised me so, and that I can never forget it again.

by Antônia D. G. Lau