Zombie Dreams

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you can feel yourself trying to wake up? You're asleep, but your mind has partially pushed through the muslin cloth that it's been wrapped in. You can almost feel yourself moaning some reptile-brain gibberish as your body scrabbles and heaves itself forward, trying to escape the paralysis of sleep, like some sort of paraplegic zombie kicking a smack habit. But sleep is holding on tight still, and doesn't want to let you go.

I have one of those dreams every couple of months it seems, and it's always more or less the same. From what I can tell, or at the least the impression that I get tells me that it's early morning, just a little while after dawn. My eyes are just cracking open, and my upper body is rising from the bed at about a 45 degree angle. My arms are outstretched, grasping. The layout of my bedroom looks more or less the same, but somehow I know that the rest of my apartment is different. I know that it's early morning because I can see faint sunlight coming in through the blinds that block the sliding glass door that opens onto the deck outside my bedroom.

Sometimes in this dream I can see through my foggy, half-opened eyes that the doorway from my bedroom leads into a hallway. A few feet down the hallway on the right is a kitchen that it similar to my actual kitchen, but then the hallway opens into a large living area. Even though it's morning back in my bedroom, the living room is lit by a midday sun that's coming in through several windows, and I'm pretty sure there's a skylight or something there, but the ceiling is high and in my dream I don't look up. The room feels very late-70's/early-80's, with large, overstuffed furniture and baby blue shag carpeting. Although in reality I couldn't see any of this from my bed, I know that there is a door leading outside to the left of the hallway. The door has a wooden or metal frame and is made of thickly frosted glass. I can see through the glass that there is a security door on the other side made of iron bars, and occasionally I can see silhouettes passing by.

The Porphyric

No, I'm not a vampire or emo kid draped in black, not that there's anything wrong with that. If that kind of thing makes you happy, I can't really argue with you. I'm an unemployed, neurotic, balding man in his early 30's who hates the heat and sunburns easily, yet for some reason I live in the sweaty armpit of the South, Columbia, SC. So who am I to judge? Thus, The Porphyric refers to my desire to avoid the sun as much as possible.