In Dreams, awake [WRAP]

For nearly 10 years I experienced the same dream each night. I'd like to share that dream and the steps I took one day, whilst awake, in an attempt to understand.

In Dreams:
I lived deep in the valley. Trees everywhere; everywhere green. My memories would have it that it was always misty. An ever present chill, but never too cold. Moist and hazy; low all-pervading clouds sunk perpetually on the mountain tops, dropping into the valley below.

Every night I dreamt of the railway track. A singular track that runs parallel with the valley; stretching from the highest mountains down to the distant lowland sea. Abandoned, unused. A central feature of this ancient valley village; in clear sight but seemingly forgotten.

Every night, in my dreams, I walked down the tracks.

Every night I felt the mist on my face, the pine clear air in my lungs and the melancholic aura of beauty. The beauty of oppressive mountains. A beauty I could see but could not feel. I felt the suffocating silence of the mist drown my thoughts, while distanced church choirs skirted the edges of my conscious mind.

Every night I walked 2 miles.

Every night I reached the metal gates. The gates that took me to where my passed family and ancestors lay. The creaking gate silenced, the damp grass spongy beneath my feet to their graves. I remember the stone, crystal cold and beautiful; an inadequate anchor of their past existence.

And then I wake. Every night.

In Wake/Awakened:
One day I decide to follow the steps of my dreams. A day much like my dream; silent, damp, forever green.

I climb the barrier to the tracks and walk. I breathe in deep the moist valley air and thoughtfully listen for the muffled sounds of silence. In my mind, I hear the choir. It's not there; but the traces of music are so deeply embedded that my mind instinctively associates it with each step. Much like a carefully rehearsed soundtrack.

The melancholy follows me also; seemingly a residue from the path I have followed so many times before.

I am in distanced awe of the beauty that surrounds me. The beauty that somehow exists unnoticed. A beauty clear but separated; though viewed through glass. I realise this makes me feel sadness. No, not sadness. Something similar; a feeling I cannot identify or rationalise.

In wake, the distance to the gate is far shorter. The iron gates, ornate and touched by the misery of many, are pained to open; groaning as I heave them forward. The distance to the graves is further than my dreams would have me believe.

I reach the headstones; this time more cold and less beautiful. Unspectacular and worn with the ages.

I have thoughts about the transience of life. I will have nothing to mark my existence than such a stone. A stone that will be as temporary as my life. Tended to sporadically; remembered less with each passing day, week, month and year. Forgotten as the generations pass.

And yet this does not make wish for anything different.

I find myself realising that I do not fear death.

I feel confused, but I do not know why. The feeling is powerful. It overwhelms. I sit, looking at the furthest forest valley mountain, searching for meaning. Searching for understanding. Searching for something.

Slowly, the mists of my mind start to lift. Slowly, I begin to understand. I fear my dream...

The detachment from what surrounds me; the disconnection; sensations without feeling and the isolation of thoughts.

As my thoughts continue, I realise that when I am awake it feels no different. I feel no different. It's no more real than my dreams.

Cold and complete clarity overwhelms me.

It's not my dream I fear, it's life. MY life. My life, no more connected to life or living than my dreams.

I look back at the mist covered mountains and wonder why. I still wonder.

I'm sure a caveat isn't required - the fact this is my first foray into creative writing (albeit regarding a factual occurrence) will possibly be quite apparent.

Any feedback and/or constructive criticism will be very much appreciated

reply to post by lizziejayne


Really well done Lizziejayne! It felt very surreal. Like I was there walking the railroad tracks and breathing the pine laden cool air. With a sense of foreboding as I approached the gates that led me to where I knew I was going. A great read and you should seriously keep it up!

reply to post by jackflap


Cheers for your generous feedback Jackflap

As this is new territory for me, I was a little concerned that it wouldn't make for an easy or enjoyable read. I know I have a lot to learn and a lot of bad habits to leave behind!

The fact you managed to make it to the end and that it drew you in to a degree is extremely positive feedback to receive. Thank you

This was a very well written story in fact i read it twice..I felt like i was there I could see the valley ,trees and feel the cool air..I felt i was walking on the railroad track..This was a good read i felt it came from your heart

reply to post by sugarcookie1


Cheers for your kind feedback sugarcookie1 It's very much appreciated.

I'm not particularly practiced when it comes to creative writing, so it's good to find that my first attempt hasn't got people running for the nearest exit

I LOVED it. Very nicely descriptive. If this was your first go at creative writing then wowza! I know those places and most of those feelings. Thanks for taking me to them this evening.

S&F.

reply to post by The GUT


Thank you for reading and providing such nice feedback

I was somewhat tentative about sharing my first attempt at this type of stuff, so such a generous and kind response means a lot

reply to post by lizziejayne



I really felt I was there, walking and breathing. Kept me reading to the end...now I feel the cold emptiness.
Well done!!! Write more!!!

reply to post by Herblackwings


Cheers Herblackwings

I shall definitely give it another go after such kind feedback and encouragement from yourself and everyone else.

I just hope you all know what you're letting yourselves in for