I was lying on my bed a little while back. Feeling sleepy. When all of a sudden I saw myself outside the window. My apparition. It was staring at me. Clinging onto the window grills. Desperately. Staring at me as if he was a dead man. Or I was. A cold stare. Unmoving.

Fear.

Have you ever been afraid of yourself? Have you ever been the source of all that frightens you? How does it feel when you are the reason of your own fear and its consequence too?

I knew, then, that I was dreaming. Even whilst I was in the dream. You call that Lucid Dreaming. It's a sort of dream in which you are conscious of the fact that you've been dreaming. But how does that consciousness help you?

The other day I was going through this article that spoke about a woman suffering from lachanophobia, a (childhood) fear of vegetable that refuses to leave. Miss Larrieux freaks out on seeing peas on her plate. Ain't it a funny piece of news? It sure is. I was laughing out loud while I was reading the article.

Much later, I found myself thinking about Miss Larrieux. I imagined her walking down the street and a few people pointing towards her and whispering within themselves -

You see that lady, she suffers from a veggie fear. All you need to do to rob her is hold a solemn carrot in front of her face.

Miss Larrieux. Will she not be equally conscious of the jokes as she would be of her fears? And yet, why is it that she'll be doing nothing about it? Is it so impossible to overcome your phobias? Well, at times, they most certainly are. Miss Larrieux is afraid of vegetables because she doesn't see vegetables on seeing vegetables. She sees something else in them. And that something else is unrecognizable in any form of her consciousness. It's indefinite and undefinable. And that is exactly where her (or anyone else's) fear stems from. The inability to recognize, restructure and reproduce is the source of our fears. Miss Larrieux is not afraid of the vegetables. She's afraid of the invisibility of that which she sees, in front of anyone else. The more and merrier the jokes, the greater the invisiblity and the deeper the fear. Miss Larrieux is not afraid of the vegetables, she's afraid of her extraordinary sense of seeing something that others fail to recognize. She can't overcome her fear as long as it's not denominated to something quite ordinary - to something that wouldn't be making headlines. She can't overcome her fears as long as others don't help her in doing this.

The consciousness of fear and the uncertainty of what lies beyond is that which frightens us more. My consciousness of this being just a dream is supposed to pacify my fears (or at least, that's how people suppose it should be) but it's exactly the opposite.

When I saw myself staring at me from outside the window and realized this can only be a dream, my brain is simultaneously asking - "why?" "Why am I seeing this?" My unconscious is already looking for answers and I'm yet to wake up - yet to break out of the dream. And that exactly, is where my uncertainty begins. I don't know. I'm ignorant. And I'm trapped in a realm where I have neither the powers nor the independence to find answers.

Not finding answers is my fear.

My fear is the source of detachment I find myself facing in my dream.

The source is my answer.









Don't forget to add me to your friend list. If you think I might have problems recognizing your identity, link me to your dA profiles.

I couldn't always afford to be a very social person but I'm trying to rectify that.

A bagful of smiles for all of ya.