Mon Cauchemar

I had a dream the other night. I know most people care not for the stories involving dreams, yet give this one a chance. In this dream I worked at a junkyard. Everyday I woke up at the crack of dawn, showered, ate breakfast, and found myself driving to work. I drove an old beat up van. Blue. I cannot remember for the life of me what happened at work, I just remember I ended up at a police station. At this point my dream skipped, like a record. I was still a junkyard worker, just now I found myself in a town that apparently was being rioted. I was still at the police station that was previously mentioned, yet there were no police, a lot of people, mainly reporters, but no police. It was there that I stayed for a while talking to them, all different and unique, until I was fed up with the city and returned back to my junkyard. I believe I ended up playing Frisbee or some other mundane picnic sport. Anyways, why am I telling you this? Because it is my nightmare.

I lived a complete life in my dream. For all I know that alter ego of myself had a family, a steady income, a completely different name, different taste of clothing, but it was still me, Rapp. The problem is I woke up and destroyed all of it. I annihilated that whole world. All of the labor and work of that alter ego me was instantly for naught. All of those people in the police station, any life they may have had was now nothing more than a faint memory. Again you may be asking yourself, "Where's the nightmare". It has been what you have been reading the whole time. All of the work one put into a whole world, or life, and yet it was for nothing. It is a complete metaphor for our literal existence.

I can go out and put thousands of hours of work into a project or a company, yet it would be pointless in the actual long term. All of my hard work would just be destroyed in the end of things. If not by bankruptcy then by some other unknown force out there. My dream is to become a well written writer with a decent fan base, yet my fault is right there in that word, my dream. My dream the other night was so easily destroyed, what is preventing my actual dream from being destroyed? Life is as fragile as the dream of a light sleeper. Any sudden change of environment could wake the sleeper and cast it off into the heap of forgotten, incomplete dreams. Now how can one stop this nightmare?

You can't. There is no actual way to stop it. It is out of our singular reach. Unless you had complete control over everyone and everything in the world, which is utterly nonsensical, and thus the nightmare is real. Your dream is as fragile as those pleasant, or sometimes horrifying, facades that your mind creates when your eyes shut to rest. Imagine that, you break down a dream numerous times a night, does that mean you are doing the same while you are awake? What if they are not your dreams that you shatter, they belong to someone else? Then would that make you the nightmare that haunts the dreams of others? Maybe. Yet, you do not look like an eight foot tall spider that chases me around a monopoly board, so I do not believe that you are my nightmare, and thus will not destroy my dreams. Go haunt someone else, mon cauchemar.