the yellow city and its wall

they say you dream more than 1,000 dreams each night but that you never remember them in the morning--or, if you do, they are strange and fleeting.

but i want to record this dream before all the details are lost to me. i am not interested in symbolism and interpretations when it comes to dreams. what interests me are the feelings i have, the emotions that pass through me in my dreams. and this particular one has left its mark on me, so much so that i don't think i will ever forget it.

this dream was one of many that i had lastnight, but the ones before were disjointed and surreal as most dreams are.

as in a dream there are some things that you just know without having to see any background. i believe that in this case, i was part of a class from a certain school or university. we were traveling the world and at the same time overcoming certain obstacles. now that i write this, it doesn't sound right, but its the best that i can do.

i was standing in the center of a city with tall buildings, but they were clean and they were not hard steel and glass, but made of clay, it seemed, or at least clay-colored and there were no asphalt roads. there were large clouds in the sky, whose underbellies were yellow and gold with the sunlight. i'm not sure what time of day it was--only that the sunlight shown in such a way that glazed everything in sight with a yellow or cream-colored light. it looked liked sunset and dawn all at once.

i was standing in the center of a yellow city.

and before me was a great, high wall that led right up to the clouds it seemed. it was made of paper--parchment paper, or papyrus paper, or maybe even bamboo paper, but it was not the average printer type. it looked like a large scroll had been unrolled from the heavens--it looked almost like a waterfall only it didn't billow or move it looked solid with ripples and creases in it--and if the creases were large enough, they made ledges where one could rest if climbing up the wall. and as i watched, this is exactly what my class did.

there were at least almost a hundred of us and i watched as they all tackled the wall, wearing no harnesses or no gloves--they climbed simply as they were dressed: some in jeans and a t-shirt. it was a windy day and the better climbers progressed faster than others.

then time elapsed, as it does in dreams, and suddenly i was not watching people climb, i was climbing, and i was alone, the only one climbing beside me was my best friend who was weeping with fright and i just knew that the only reason why i was climbing was because she couldn't do it alone and i didn't want her to feel afraid.

we were near the bottom--everyone else had already reached the top and were waiting for us. the details of the paper wall became clear to me then. the creases in the paper were treacherous. some of them looked like handholds, but if you gripped one and tried to pull yourself up, it would rip in your hands all the way down until you were at the bottom and had to start afresh. there were also no rocks as there are on rock-walls in rock-climbing centers. there were only slings of rope which were even more difficult to use because of their unsteadiness--rope ladders are harder to climb than solid wooden ones. once, my foot in a rope sling, i made a grab for a crease of paper and it ripped in my hands. all the while my friend was weeping beside me. i don't remember ever reaching the top.

time elapsed again and all of us were standing at the bottom of the wall. because we hadn't reached the top the day before, we were starting again from the very beginning. everyone who had already completed the climb were around us, waiting to watch our ascent.

but this time it was different. my friend and i were harnessed and given certain tools. i had rope burns on my hands so they allowed me to put gloves over them--something the ones before us did not have. as i was strapping them on, someone came up to me and gave me a hug. only it was more like an embrace than anything and he held me tightly. as in a lot of my dreams, i did not know who he was or his name, only that i trusted and loved him. he did not say anything and i never saw his face but as he held me tightly i felt that breathless despair come over me, feeling like i would never finish climbing the wall, that i would have to start from the beginning every day for the rest of my life, that i would never see this person whom i loved ever again because he would get tired of waiting for me.

and then the dream ended and i think i woke up. oddly enough, i was content when i first woke, happy to have gotten a decent night's sleep for the first time in a while. and then i remembered this dream and i haven't thought of anything else since.

for me it seemed so real. the wind on my skin, the feelings of fear and despair and anxiety and the crushing loneliness of climbing that paper wall with only my weeping friend beside me. with the knowledge that everyone else had finished but me. because it was so real, it couldn't have been a nightmare, even though i was afraid. nightmares are horrifying, but fear is so much more powerful than horror.

the only other dreams that have affected me this way had to do with the same kind of emotions: one involved a shooting at my highschool, another had to do with a war i was fighting in where my side had no hope of winning. but they did not horrify me, they frightened me--distrubed me--so much that when i went to school, i was afraid of hearing gunshots, so much that when i turned a corner, i was afraid i might see that enemy i had been fighting in the war. and they were only dreams.

i would never want my own mind for an enemy. i would never wish this upon anyone else, either. how could one survive if this were so?