Actual | Actually
This morning, I dreamed of memories of actual past events that never actually happened.
Of course, they could just be dreams - except in my dream, I knew they were memories, because I remembered, in my dream, what had actually happened in those past events (such as my primary six camp and being around primary school friends and classmates). Which was why, as I was dreaming those 'memories', I could pick out things that were familiar, and things that were out of place.
It's a little paradoxical - my dreaming of those 'memories', and my being in and (re)living those 'memories'. In a way, it is a little like the mirror trick where if you held a mirror to a mirror in such an angle that your reflection would be reflected ad infinitum ...
No. It isn't like that at all actually; it's more like 'A Tale of Two Cities' in Worlds' End.
I think I might've been either Alice through the looking glass - to an alternative universe of what might've been, what could've been, and what would've been - or Robert alighting into the city's dreams.
Were those un-memories, or were they "an abstraction / [Which remains] in a perpetual possibility / Only in a world of speculation"?
I have no idea.
I have an idea, though, that it is a difficult existence when the lines are so fudged.
Of course, they could just be dreams - except in my dream, I knew they were memories, because I remembered, in my dream, what had actually happened in those past events (such as my primary six camp and being around primary school friends and classmates). Which was why, as I was dreaming those 'memories', I could pick out things that were familiar, and things that were out of place.
It's a little paradoxical - my dreaming of those 'memories', and my being in and (re)living those 'memories'. In a way, it is a little like the mirror trick where if you held a mirror to a mirror in such an angle that your reflection would be reflected ad infinitum ...
No. It isn't like that at all actually; it's more like 'A Tale of Two Cities' in Worlds' End.
I think I might've been either Alice through the looking glass - to an alternative universe of what might've been, what could've been, and what would've been - or Robert alighting into the city's dreams.
Were those un-memories, or were they "an abstraction / [Which remains] in a perpetual possibility / Only in a world of speculation"?
I have no idea.
I have an idea, though, that it is a difficult existence when the lines are so fudged.
posted by s at 02:50
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