very rarely will i have the kind of nightmare i just had now. a prolonged, disinterested narrative set in a post-apocalyptic city where zombies (they sleep during the day) and vigilantes (there is no law) set each scene in motion.
all dreams are a response to the gaps that form during the waking hours. yesterday, perhaps for as simple a reason as my having skipped lunched, I had become a pessimist by nightfall. (i was unwilling to acknowledge that the glass is not just half-full, it’s continuously overflowing.)
there is no greater cognitive gap than pessimism, especially when it is rationalized. worse, yet, it tries to extend its spell by becoming sadism and/or cynicism.
all of this is well noted in the literature of our civilization, but the vividness of my dream made me wonder how it was that monsters came to walk the earth.
my zombies are my grandfathers’ demons. both serve their purpose; in my case, to dramatize how those who lack empathy lack humanity. and though they are illusions, they are no less a part of our reality.
our eyes lack the physical ability to make out fine details at a distance. instead, our brains fill in the many gaps with narrative. likewise our dreaming mind – or inward eye, as the poets have called it – can show us what our waking mind will not.
if our brains serve any higher purpose, it’s to mind the gaps.