I dreamt about being accepted into a space program and having the
chance to explore the stars. The program had different projects ranging
from 10-30 years in space. No matter which mission I decided to join,
I'd be gone a long time. There were only a few remaining, which had not
yet filled up, so I had very little time to decide, lest I'd lose this
one and only chance. I thought about what I would do, instead of taking
up this offer. I thought of what I'd miss out on, if I did decide to
embark on this journey. How many people I would leave behind. How many
memories would fade. What I would come back to.
Then I realized that it was space- the final frontier, as Star Trek
famously put it. This was a chance of a lifetime- it would be the
ultimate catharsis that I could ever experience. As I imagined staring
out unto Earth, watching it grow smaller and smaller, I would purge
myself of all basic self-absorbed pettiness that makes me who I am and
become something new. I'd be reborn in space, no longer bound to the
thoughts and rules of a naive and unremarkable civilisation that was
truly invisible to the massive and unimaginable realm of space and
anything else that could possible inhabit it.
So I accepted the offer. A ten-year trip into the stars- a routine
mission to study our solar system. I'm not sure if the habitable
conditions would be similar to the Enterprise or the brief shuttle
scene at the end of Gattaca. Anyhow, it didn't matter. I decided to
leave everything and everyone behind. As I only had a few brief days to
say my goodbyes, I recall a tumultous exchange of words and feelings
with a number of people, especially my mother. I didn't know if I could
return to a world that I'd still recognize, or who'd still be alive by
then. Ten years. It seems like such a small number but in my mind, it
was unimaginable. With this in mind, I began to wonder if I should've
chosen a longer mission. Perhaps thirty years would be more comforting
to the soul than ten. It would be easier to return to the Earth as a
new man, no longer chained to anything or anyone. For all I know, there
is no difference between ten, twenty, or thirty. Why not spend my
entire life within the stars? Why limit myself to a number? In the
end, it would not matter. All that mattered was that I made a decision
to leave my life behind, and dedicate myself to a new set of
obligations.
And then I woke up, before I could truly take off into the sky. I
didn't leave anyone, afterall. Do you ever have dreams that are so
remarkable, that when you wake up, you feel a sudden emptiness inside as
you realize that none of it was real? I've had a few of those. I've
had visions of beautiful terror- worldly destruction wrought by nature
and man.
I've seen an atomic bomb explode before my eyes in such vivid
detail that when I woke up, I could still recall every precise moment.
I've seen a distant asteroid pierce the sky and slam into the
earth, bathing the entire world in a cleansing flame. And in both
dreams, I felt no horrendous terror- simply a peaceful calm. Only after
waking up, do I feel a sort of emptiness inside as if I had suddenly
left an entire world behind.
I've met individuals who I thought I've known forever. I've been
able to connect with them at such a level that upon waking up, I felt
immense guilt at losing them, as if I had let them die in another life.
I'm not sure if all of this is symbolic or an attempted interpretration
of my consciousness. Perhaps these rare bursts of emotion are my
attempts to experience feelings that I normally won't allow
or simply cannot express in daily life.
It's very difficult for myself to be honest and express myself. I
am socially inept in public and extremely self conscious of my emotions
and words. Because of this, I tend to stumble over what I say as I'm
usually attempting to combine multiple sentences or words at once, and
it just becomes a social mess. It's no wonder that I prefer not to talk
and therefore remain "down-to-earth", a phrase which I find to be
highly ironic. In my dreams, I don't need to talk in order to properly
communicate with my surroundings. It is a very welcoming change.
So I'll continue dreaming of the days that will not be, for though they are but reverie, they're real enough for me.
