The New Boredom

Mah and Newer. Manure.

Story Time: Bad Dreams About Clocks

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Back when I was a little kid, like six or seven years old, I used to have this dream over and over again. I’d open my eyes and find myself perched on the minute hand of a giant clock on the face of a skyscraper. It would be about ten minutes past the hour. There was no where for me to go. I was just sitting on this big clock hand. As the time passed, the clock hand began to drop and at first it didn’t seem like such a big deal. But after 5 or 6 minutes, I’d realize that this thing is going to point down pretty soon. And I’d just have to sit there and wait for it to reach a point where I could no longer stay perched on it and I would slide off the end and to my death. The next 7-8 minutes in the dream lasted an eternity because I was just waiting for the moment when my support would be taken out from under me and I’d fall to my death.

I would wake up from this dream every time with a crushing feeling of dread. It wasn’t like I had been able to tell time on an analog clock for all that long, maybe a couple of years at most. The concept of death also was fairly strange and new to me at that point.

I never told anyone about that dream until a couple days ago. I wish some one had explained the metaphor that I was dreaming and how we’re all just terrified of life and how no one can stop the clock from letting us slip off into our death.

But then again, if I had a kid that was dreaming things like that I don’t know if I’d know what to do about it anyway.

 

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Written by photokevo

February 25, 2011 at 1:45 am

Posted in Story Time

Tagged with ,

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