Once upon a time in a land far away there lived a dream. All the dream wanted was to become real. But what was real? The dream didn’t know, exactly. It just heard about reality from other dreams, all living in Desireland, and felt a strong obsession to find out.

 

On a Monday the dream awoke within a dream. The sun was bright throwing a strong lime glow upon the forewall across the courtyard, long vines of forest green and rose red tumbling along its right side. The windows of the transverse apartment display muted tones of grey, slate blue, coral and golden rod twisting into a series of tubal forms of the oddest perception.

“What is that?” The dream inquired. Talking aloud to no one.

“Why that’s reality.” said an unknown voice.

“Who’s that?”

“Why you, of course.”

“Me? I’m here. Standing right here. Looking out the window across the yard and unsuccessfully into my neighbor’s window, being it is blocked by some weird design I’ve never seen there before.”

Nothing. No reply. No sound at all other than that of bats the size of small cats flapping by.

“Hello?” said the dream.

“Hello.” said the voice.

“WTF? How are you doing that?”

“How are YOU doing that?” said the voice, referring to the movement of lips, tongue and vocal cords in a vibrational hum of sounds we call speech.

“Oh brother!” said the dream. This is going to take awhile!

Nothing No reply. No sound at all other than that of screeching parakeets flying freely from east to west.

“If you are me, and I am you, and you know that the window across the way is reality, and I want to go there, then tell me how.”

“I didn’t say I knew how to get there. I said it WAS reality. Getting there is your folly.”

“Then let me be full of folly, and GET ME IN THAT WINDOW!”

“You have to learn how for yourself.”

 

So, the dream set off to travel to reality. Using common sense, and having a general book smartedness about it, the dream sat on the floor, lotus style, closed its eyes, opened its ears and those senses beyond the basic five, and allowed.

At first the audibles were of home; wind across the sheer curtains, children running along the garden paths, kookaburra, gannet, darter, pipit, myna… oh the myna – pigeon of the dreamscape. Then… something unexpected. The sounds changed. The dream heard car horns and trains bouncing across the commuter rails, people yelling and whistling, and breaks slamming, and jack-hammers jacking. The dream burst awake!

It ran… ran for its life. These new sounds frightened the dream so much it followed the lane along the boardwalk, passing big buildings off in the distance, and pools of splashing humans – all crazy in their expression. The colors were still muted and the visual pixillated – unclear to the dream’s sensitive eyes.

Then it stopped, skid marks steaming from the rear of its sneakers. Rubbing its lids, and rubbing again, the dream pulled back the curtain on its view and saw the most lovely picture – that of people; odd people. Laughing. Content. Happy. Enjoying the day just beyond the red flowering bushes.

The dream was so drawn to the three-dom grassing it in the garden it began to walk forward, without thought, towards the group. As it neared not even one of the three looked up in recognition.

“Where am I?” asked the dream.

Nothing. No reply. Sounds surrounding the dream so sweetly that a 360° turn only carouselled its beauty.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

So the dream walked right up to the female of the trio, placed its palm on the girl’s shoulder and began to inquire again.

“WTF was that?” the girl screamed.

“What was what?” the dark male with the black T-shirt asked.

“Something just touched me!” she replied loudly.

The young man smiled, knowing his girl to be “sensitive” and allowing her eccentricities as she was too hot to ignore.

Surprised and bewildered, the dream couldn’t believe it was there, in reality, yet not in the visual awareness of the elements of human matter in this realm. So, the dream decided to play.

It reached up, it’s arm stretching higher and higher and higher still, like Gumby on steroids, until its hand was at the top of the highest tree, and reached towards a crow. The crow reached back and bit the dream’s hand, pulling off the tip of its index finger.

“Shit!” said the dream.

But, of course, as dreams do, the tip rematerialized as quickly as it was plucked.

 
The dream then walked on into a watery, viney, insect ridden area and found a lizard. Wishing to keep its finger tip this time ’round, the dream moved its hand from above the reptile down towards its head. The lizard responded, lifting its head, closing its eyes, as if waiting to be petted. So, the dream accommodated.

The touch was like nothing the dream had ever experienced before. It was transcendental in that the digits of the dream’s left hand pierced through the lizard, as if transparent and moving through that which was the lizard. As the connection was made the lizard let its mouth drop open a bit and its tongue to roll out and down.

“It liked it. It can feel me!” exclaimed the dream.

Walking on, the dream came to a public pool of gargantuan size. Placing its toes in the water the dream, again, experienced a sense of touch far removed from the normal fare. Its foot WAS the water. One and the same. And, as the dream added its own vibrational movement to the cool blue bubbling liquid, the wakes and waves began.

“Check this out! I can move the water!” Then the sway of the water ceased.

Hmm. That’s odd. Let me try this can – a 20oz container of Red Bull. The dream clenched the aluminum cylinder with the fervor of a pro-ball pitcher, but the only thing it grabbed was the other side of its hand.

 

“What?” Confused and worn the dream took respite next to a brilliantly lit pond just steps away. The vibrance of the colors caught the dream by surprise, as all it had experienced thus far were muted tones; except when excitement mixed with an implosion of joy sparked each time the dream initially reached out to touch the lady, the crow and the pool water.

“That’s it! I am part of it all when I’m in a state of no thought… no feeling… contemplative. Then, when I get excited, feel joy, then I can interact! Maybe that means the more I “feel” the more concrete the interactions can be. Maybe that girl can see me if I project joy. Maybe that crow would avoid me if I dropped emotion. Ohh… let’s try it out!”

So, the dream felt. It envisioned the first time it thought of reality and being there – being HERE! It imagined how it would be to bring along the dream’s closest friend and how special that would be to share this experience. It thought about its parents and… Errerrerreak! The sensation of a record being scratched came to mind. The feelings depleted.

“No parents. Noted.”

The dream tried again.

Mustering up all the joy, all the pleasure, all the love it had, the dream reached for the Red Bull. The can rose, and rose – to the chagrin of the pool patrons, who began to scatter.

“So the crow sees me, and the lizard sees me, and I can splash water in the pool and drink from a can so I have form. Then why can’t the human’s see me?” The dream wondered. And it turned up the volume on the joy.

The skies lit up with rays of yellow light. Every corner of the ground illuminated in its splendor. And the humans sensed the dream in all its magnificence. Some could see the dream clearly now, and they were intrigued. Others were only aware of the brightness of things but an overt awareness of the new brought fear. The dream caught a glimpse of itself in the reflection of the clouds and it was filled with anticipation at the knowing that…

“BRRRRing. BRRRRing. BRRRRing.” The cell phone next to the bed in the hotel where Ana was staying went off like a rocket engine, awaking her from a broken night’s sleep.

Still holding on to the lady and the crow and the lizard and the Red Bull, Ana clicked on the cell. “‘Ayuwa?”

“Hey hun. It’s mam. I know you’re here on business, but wondered if you’d be interested in joining me at the South Bank today? I hear the sun is out and the pool is open.

“Whaaa? Who? Oh mam! OH MAM! No! No! Nooooo…” and with the parent’s appearance the dream dissipated into the fog of forgetfulness.

“Nah. I’ve already… was already… have already… Got work.”

~~~~~ — ~~~~~ – ~~~~~ — ~~~~~
In a land far away, an other sort of dimensional character sits in front of a forewall across the courtyard, shimmering lime green, with long vines of forest green and rose red tumbling along its right side. The windows of the transverse apartment display muted tones of grey, slate blue, coral and golden rod twisting into a series of tubal forms of the oddest perception.

“And what are you doing?” Its parent asks.

“Realitying.” It replied, smiling… Red Bull in hand.

Fade to black…

 
NOTE: Banner / Blog page article placeholder image is of the City of Brisbane, NSW, Australia, taken from the South Bank on 1/11/17. View full size image here.