This morning I woke up with the feeling that during my sleep I had been bombarded by a reel of unwelcome memories; I felt less that I had been taking part in my dreams and more that I had been invaded by them. I woke up crying, which always spooks me a little because it represents a dream’s unpredictable and eerie ability to transgress the boundary between one’s mental world and one’s physical one. Whenever I have such aggressive dreams, I wake up feeling absolutely vulnerable, and wondering how it is that they got in.
There is a saying that ghosts can move from one world to the next through the infinite corridor that forms when two mirrors reflect each other. This has always fascinated me, in the way that I am often fascinated by things I find both beautiful and frightening. Such a corridor, occurring when objects existing solidly in the real world – two mirrors – play off of each other to create an illusion of depth, is in itself an amalgamation of the real and the phantom, and thus its composition nicely augurs its product.
Interestingly, a passage created by two mirrors thus reflecting each other represents an endlessly self-accruing fantasy world built upon certain newels of actuality, and as such seems to me to describe the structure of many of our dreams. If invasive dreams use the same means of travel as do ghosts, it is clear to me why, when waking up crying, I feel that both my mental and physical worlds have been accessed by something foreign and transgressive.
Memory Cassette – Last One Awake (CFCF Version)