My ramblings....

Neither Here Nor There

I always forget how deeply books effect me, probably more than most other things on this earth.
If it's written creatively, I think like it for the rest of the week, my imaginings following the patterns of its prose.
If it is written creatively and sparks thoughtfulness, its ideas can stay with me for months (years, if they were truly new) and I base a lot of my thoughts and writings off of it.
If it is tempestuous, it sinks into my dreams, and becomes means for whole interpretation.
If it's too physical, too drastic, it sinks deeper into fear and nightmares, and I often have to stop reading altogether.

Today, while dreaming, I got a call "ending this", and though I denied its impact (both waking and sleeping) in my brain, I couldn't breathe. It felt as though a leather belt had been wrapped around my lungs and tightened, so try as I might I could not get enough air.
Frightened in my dream, it woke me, and spent long moments trying to find the right position to loosen the belt, taking long purposeful inhales. Even after I could breathe clearly, the memory of the pain and fear left by the belt still clung in red welts snaking around my lungs.

So earlier, my book asked, "if it happens to you in dreams, has it really happened?" And I wonder if this is the reality of how I would feel, should I ever get that call...

...or maybe it was just the heat.

posted by Unknown @ 9:10 PM