Thu 15 January 2015 | -- (permalink)

I've had a recurring dream, I've had this one for as long as I can recall. My consciousness, the idea I think of as me, is concentrated in what feels like one small particle and the rest of me, the world, whatever exists , is a numb mass of flesh that I'm being pressed against. This mass of flesh, it could be mine as much as not me, feels infinite, even though I cannot feel it at all. And the me of my dream, this little dot that perceives the rest, is scared, terrified even, of this vast infinity pressing against him. There is a sensation of extreme minuteness, insignificance, that is overwhelming in its force. This dream is a nightmare. I have had it time and again. It's a nightmare that is as familiar to me as the one where I'm falling of the edge of my bed, falling indefinitely, into an infinite darkness, and the realisation hits that I was not even on my bed to begin with but on the steel Godrej almirah in our bedroom. My assumption of having been lying safely, comfortably upon my bed is overturned, and the fall acquires a dark significance through the insignificance of that belief. I am falling, and where I'm falling from is an absurd position to have been in. Fear overpowers me.

Anyway, this dream isn't about the fall. It's the one where I am insignificant, but everything else, which could also be me but doesn't feel so, is pressing against me. The rest of it, the world, me, makes a deep humbuzzing noise as it presses against me. I cannot hear anything but this. I cannot think, but of the force as it does this. I am scared, fear overpowers me.

I felt that right now, I dreamt that, right now, though I am awake. Friends around me are talking about faith, religion, science...I am drunk, and for the first time I felt this, thought this, saw this when not asleep. I wanted to answer, take part in the discussion, say something that means something, but instead, I felt afraid. I dreamt my old, familiar dream.