Persian Delight: Final Part.

by | Nov 9, 2023 | Uncategorized | 1 comment

I, like Stevenson, would have no peace

From the moment my pen touched the paper, I was no longer in control. When I refer to myself in the first person, I mean the living, waking self. According to Robert Louis Stevenson, who begins and ends this story, we have two selves; waking and dreaming.

Speaking of which, if I may digress from the story, (and the story), I would like to talk about the Bart. In his essay, A Chapter on Dreams, he explained the existence of the two selves. He concentrated on a subject whom he later revealed as himself. He hypothesised that those of us who dream vividly, have two lives or live longer than those who don’t. On consideration, I suppose he was right. If one analyses the average day of twenty four hours, the normal person would sleep for roughly one-third of that time, that is, eight hours.

Using simple mathematics, one can deduce that; even in the old money of four score years and ten a person will sleep for over twenty-three years. That is more than a life sentence for murder – in the prison of slumber. End of deviation.

My pen began to run away with me. I wasn’t conscious of the words it was forming on the page. There seemed to be an ethereal link between my dream and my right hand.

I suppose you’ll be wondering about the contents of my scribbling. I know that I am. That, my friends, is for another time. If I may, I’d like to share with you the experience which I call being possessed. I was never one of those people Stevenson referred to; one of his ilk. My dreams were as those to which I referred to earlier, ragged leaves of an old paperback.

Not so now, though. I had joined his clan, his gang. My other self was awakened, thanks to the chance meeting with the old man. I, like Stevenson, would have no peace, no rest from consciousness in all of its forms. As the words filled the page, like a crowd filling an auditorium, my own mind wandered to my half finished novel, Hypnagogia. I realised that dreams had occupied my waking life long before this current episode. The words of the old man returned. “Don’t let this minor challenge defeat you. You will finish Sesame Seed, Hypnagogia and Escallier.”

Meanwhile, my other self continued the story, of which I’m sure you’ll be interested to read. Having filled eight pages of my book and several refills of my pen, the words dried up like rain on a summer pavement. My two selves converged at seven in the morning. I was hungry, thirsty and every joint in my body was welded together, like the skeleton of a museum dinosaur.

I cracked and crunched from the chair and turned on the kettle. As I reached for the oatcakes from the cupboard, I contemplated the day ahead. Perhaps I’d just sleep.

1 Comment

  1. Ken Childs

    Fascanating asI I am a prolific dreamer never nightmares thankfully.

    Reply

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