I begin this next blog post based on a dream that came upon me last night, whilst I was deep in slumber. To set the scene, it was my first night since the holidays, sleeping in my university accommodation. My dream commenced from the first person perspective, whereby I was duly hanging up the washing with my mother, when suddenly, I found myself ambushed by a pulp lady dressed in a purple suit. At once she begun to address us, informing my mother and I that she had kidnapped my younger sister, whom she thought was beautiful. She then progressed to state however that now, having laid eyes on me, she thought me a rather ideal contender to take over my body, and so in some kind of matrix shoot out between this lady and my mother, both parties were injured and I could feel my soul being devoured by her evil intentions. At this point I woke up to find myself drenched in cold sweat and breathing heavily- it was only 3am.
Okay, so I do admit that my recount of my dream does appear to be a bit Hollywood-esque (especially the part about breaking out into cold sweat), but the fundamental storyline does bear- at least- some resemblance of the truth. Perhaps there’s something more to be said about the fact that such a bizarre dream came to me, upon my return to university (I once read a study suggesting that different environments can influence and alternate your dream patterns), however I am not one to trust too readily in the interpretations of dreams- at least the interpretations you can find on google (Yes, I confess that in my 18 years of breathing I have searched up a dream or two…) although there is something rather spiritual and therapeutic perhaps, in believing that being shot represents a form of self-punishment that one should attempt to relieve oneself from, rather than simply becoming paranoid that someone is truly trying to kill you.
About three days ago, I met up with a group of friends from school, and somewhere in between eating our exotic pizzas (there was an assortment of pizzas based on different nationalities- how cool is that?) and chicken Caesar salads, the conversation suddenly turned from the trivial topics of hot boys at university and newly purchased clothing items, to a more profound and weighty topic ofthe meaning of life. Now generally, when I watch a movie I never tend to ponder upon them as bringing anything other than a two hour traffic of entertainment to my visual and audio senses, and usually I would say this is probably the most pragmatic attitude to have towards films overall, because- let’s face it, if you begin to compare reality to films and the world of ‘make-believe’, you shall inevitably find yourself disappointed when your crush doesn’t turn up at your front door, on a lawnmower with speakers blasting Don’t you forget about me. Nevertheless, as not to divert away from the main reason for this blog post, in those very moment of conversing about the value of life, I recalled a film, called Waking Life, which I had watched only once, about two years ago. The film basically follows the spiritual journey of an unnamed protagonist, who living an ethereal life, eventually finds himself trapped in a reality, in which the everyday happenings seem to amalgamate into a nonsensical existence, thus inevitably resulting in an existential predicament. The character then addresses a series of different people, including friends, scholars, philosophers, service-providers etc. at first assuming a passive role within their interactions, but towards the end of the film becoming more active in their philosophical deliberations. I ought to disclose that during the time I watched this film I was a bit obsessed with the concept of existentialism and so heavily invested my time in researching different films and books that explored this notion. Like most teenagers, my search was cut short when I clicked upon the second link (which surprise surprise, was Wikipedia) and found, what I thought was an apt analysis, as it encapsulated not only the sentiment of the film, but also enhanced my own understanding. The part which has stuck with me till present day, is as follows:
“This last conversation reveals this other character’s understanding that reality may be only a single instant that the individual interprets falsely as time (and, thus, life); that living is simply the individual’s constant negation of God’s invitation to become one with the universe; that dreams offer a glimpse into the infinite nature of reality; and that in order to be free from the illusion called life, the individual need only to accept God’s invitation.”
So, to bring this back to the original topic of dreams, I thought this theory, in which mere mortals were provided with the ability (in their dreams) to see into a parallel universe was pretty awesome. I am not sure however that I would appreciate my dream last night to be some sort of a foreboding indication into my future, nonetheless I would highly recommend this film, for it seems that every so often I am by one mean or another compelled to return to it, and once again propelled to contemplate the fascinating dynamics between dreams and reality.