Dream of Advancing Text and Opening Door
I woke about 20 minutes before my alarm was to go off this morning. Luxuriating in the hypnopompic/hypnagogic liminality, as usual, I formed the intention to drift back into dreaming, first asking that the retinue show me something I need to know.
Almost immediately, I was dreaming. There was a printed manuscript. I could see that it was in Times New Roman font, but I couldn’t or didn’t read the words. The manuscript kept jumping closer, then closer, then closer to my face, as if insisting on my attention.
Then my viewpoint was in the hallway of what seemed a hospital ward, or psychiatric ward. I was facing a very broad, thick heavy door–like a door to an operating room or to where dangerous patients were kept, a door meant to keep unauthorized personnel out. The door was painted a dull brick red, like the color of dried blood, and had a little square window at eye level. Just as the manuscript had continually hopped closer to me, this door keep perpetually opening, opening, opening, opening, opening. It was beckoning me, inviting me to enter that otherwise forbidden territory.
Then I awoke.