if anyone were to ask me about my dreams and its reoccuring themes, i would have a lot to cover, but yeah that would be a pretty odd thing to ask.

to dream is like to live your life not knowing that none of it is true. it feels normally long like any other day but so rapid when you look back at it, filled with fallacies but beautifully arranged unlike many other days.

during the covid lockdown, i had a horrid sleeping pattern where i would wake up in the morning just to fall asleep again repeatedly, this was seriously unhealthy — but it was also the time where i would have more vivid dreams, contained within those 20-40 minutes of 2-3 consecutive naps.

man dreams about ufo while sleeping (its me)
yours truly circa 2021. i don't know why ufos kept appearing in my dreams then, well it was just 2-3 times but i had no interests in them whatsoever. this particular dream just had it appear from the sky in a school soccer field, i remember clearly that the sky was colored strangely purple and felt like it was closing in. maybe their otherworldly nature was what made them interesting enough for me during the repetitive days of the lockdown.

it’s hard to find the general theme of those dreams, some of it is comforting, fun, absolutely horrifying, or straight up apocalyptic; but it was always the fantastical aspect of those dreams that made it memorable.

dreams sometimes feel ‘new’ but familiar enough, it tends to be liminal. there are many differing thoughts on liminality, but for me its that feeling of familiarity and loneliness — present in a surreal view of places meant for an audience that does not exist or is not currently present.

liminal convenience store
this is one of the pictures that appears in my head whenever i think of liminal space, i don't know how i first reacted to it, but it feels too comfortable to imagine yourself being there. its the vibrant look and the artificial skylights that makes it feel a bit superficial. (image from u/illythekitty)

i think those two concepts (dreams and liminal space) aren’t that far off from each other, i’ve seen many liminal spaces before in my dreams: a library with many layers within its bookshelves that becomes more aged the deeper you walk in, an endless still ocean on a dark cloudy day where the only ground is the head of a submerged dragon statue, an underground made-up ‘village’ consisting of cardboard cutouts of its people that felt oddly lively with an orchestra playing in the background, a depiction of my bedroom but seemingly merged with the entrance of an airplane and within it reveals a high-class empty restaurant with endless tables and yellow lighting, an old sci-fi inspired room with orange-creme colors that looked like a movie set and felt humid with a long hallway that leads to many bathrooms, etc. by far — it is the most natural way to be present in state of liminality.

dark clouds over foggy sea
the scenery of the dream featuring the dragon head. just imagine it being there, submerged up to its snout, with the same color as the waters around it that obscures its details, and large enough to fit several people standing on top of it. it functions like a warp hub from su, and i remember that distinct teleportation sound when i made it out of there. (image from panophotograph/vecteezy)

and when you wake up, there’s always sense of something missing within you — a melancholic feel of losing those moments that you’ve never had, or a sense of relief from whatever has happened — or maybe a paralysis from your sleeping pattern that’s more terrifying to look at (i’ve experienced this many times and i’m proud to say that i have the ability to ‘escape’ from it most of the part).

other than my personal experience, it’s wonderful how many of us can relate to this specific feeling and try to find more of it, trying to replicate that atmosphere of a dream, a sense of nostalgia, or a lost memory — we lure ourselves to the unknown in search of that feeling.