It is 8:47 p.m. and I just concluded my first viewing of Donnie Darko. I am going to go ahead and go with “crazy.”
This morning I was dreaming. I was crying because everything happening in my dream world was very sad. So wrong, so sad, so scary. I was alone in noticing the impact and the cause of all that was happening. The powerful and sectarian regime I had dreamt up was creeping in on me, I knew what had caused, and I think I even was partly (although through association only), responsible for their rise. A man was dead. A woman, his widow, was telling his story. She was grieving for him and grieving for his pain. Her story was the key. As I heard her speak, my crying turned into sobs, into weeping, into shaking, my body became racked with tears. Everything became very light then, and very physical. My body was beginning to shake me into consciousness. I could feel the wetness of the tears and the tightness in my chest. And I felt the arm of comfort reaching around me and there was a voice along with this presence. A calming, smooth, loving voice. My body still shook with tears but I slowly began to realize I was awake and I no longer had to be in that all-to-real world. I needed to choose to wake up and to let it all go. Taking ahold of my imagination, I stopped the dream that was still playing, I forcefully opened my eyes, and noticed the sun was up. I spread my dry lips to answer the question of concern.
A dream, a bad dream. Let it go, let it go, let it all go.
And the sun continued to rise. And the sun continued to shine. And again I was able to sleep and once again I was able to awake in the comfort of warm arms… the fan spinning around, spinning and cooling. And the first dream was gone, having been replaced by another, better dream full of warm breath.
And we all went into the sun and we ate. We shared stories, we learned and we grew. And we knew that the bad dreams would come back, but that they were a piece of us. Not defining us completely.