I Played a Game

Dreams are crazy. Even crazier are those nights when you seem to drift in and out of a half-sleep, never really waking up, but seemingly having full consciousness, making decisions, thinking about your dreams, even writing in your head.

Last night I had a strange dream, one of those ethereal scenarios where every interaction seems glazed over. I was in my elementary school, in the kitchen specifically. It was night time and here were a lot of people milling around the building playing some sort of game, the specifics of which I do not know, as it seems I was removed from the game, not really present. There was another individual with me in the kitchen, we were just standing there in the glow of the exit sign staring at each other.

What happened next is difficult to explain. We both looked up as a phenomenon was occurring overhead. The ceiling was dissipated, as if it was irrelevant. From the corner of the room, above and behind my head something began turning, revealing previously unseen cobwebs, laced with dried up flies and other prey. The web was spinning, churning towards a central point, above and behind my head, that was sucking it in, drawing it in towards itself to keep. The individual and I kept our heads lifted, amazed at the exposing of the cobwebs, and at whatever was drawing it in.

How long had the cobwebs been above and behind my head?
What had sparked the invisible machine, revealing and churning away the cobwebs filled with insects?
Plenty of parallels here, I am certain the revelations I drew from this dream are clear.

I half-awoke from this dream. As usual, I wanted to remember the dream by writing lines in my head to describe what happened. Almost without thinking, these lines were formed:

"I played a game with my past
Recoiling the invisible web
Twisting it inside out
To catch dried flies and alibis"

I kept telling myself to get up and write it down, but I never fully awoke to do such a thing. Instead, in my half stupor I recited the lines over and over, falling deep into sleep, half waking up again and reciting them again. I woke up and had them memorized and could recount what the dream had been about. It made for a strange night, which I thoroughly enjoyed. Also, I was up until midnight hacking out my bronchitis, ended up soused on cough syrup before my head hit the pillow for good. Gotta love those nights, and I gotta love drawing meaning from anything I can.