lucid dreaming

a short story i wrote when my dreams were my reality

close-up of botticelli’s “the birth of venus,” from when i was at the uffizi gallery in florence in early 2020

much like my dreams, this story has faded in and out of my consciousness and developed dizzyingly over the past two years. i first began writing what would come to be “lucid dreaming” in the spring/autumn of 2023. like i discussed in my post showcasing some of my poetry from that period, it was a very disorienting time. my grip on reality, on understanding what was real and what wasn’t, seemed to be slipping through my fingers despite my best attempts to sink my claws into the truth.

the original premise had nothing to do with dreaming; the inspiration for the piece was this meme:

a meme i’m sure all hot depressed girls have seen

i imagined if the girl who received this snapchat said, oh! okay. my depression is cured, my suicidal tendencies gone, all because this man has validated my existence by calling me hot. i thought it could be an interesting satirical basis for a story.

a lot of ideas were running through my mind; namely, the chokehold beauty has on womanhood, perception, and self-assumed worthiness, both in a feminine and masculine lens. the first iteration of this story took place in a psych ward made up of beautiful models who wanted to kill themselves. here’s a line from an early draft:

that’s the story of most girls here, more or less. of course details differed (sydney’s first girlfriend was the one to tell her; leah tried to end it by jumping off her roof, but realized that she was afraid of heights) but the sentiment was the same: we were all too pretty to die.

the original point of the ward, or med spa, or sanatorium, or whatever iteration i had decided on for that particular draft, was to make these girls “ugly” (whether physically or psychologically was left vague), because only then would they have the right to die. therefore, the all-encompassing Beauty was something horrifying to these girls, something to be reviled rather than revered; they wanted to get as far away from it as possible, while simultaneously being drawn back to its addicting light. fiona, the character embodying this, was therefore always part of the story; indeed, she was the central figure upon which the rest revolved.

this was the third story i wrote after my slow return to the pen in 2023, the first two being more emotional outbursts while i worked through my first love and heartbreak (don’t worry, i’ll be editing those for you guys too…) it was also the story i used to “practice” getting back into writing, so to speak. although i always edit my stories (which usually involves tightening up & cutting down, since your girl can write.. a lot..) i very rarely rewrite them, which is what i did with this piece: over and over again. it was almost like returning to an old friend, who would listen to my biggest hopes and greatest fears, reassure me that the best is yet to come, and be there for me when i felt the most alone.

i wrote pages and pages on this subject- also rediscovered my ticket from beyoncé's renaissance tour tucked away amongst the text

and during this time i did, feel alone, that is; as my mental health reached a breaking point, it was all i could do to hold on, gripping my pen and paper like a lifeline. in march 2024 i began taking medications, which brought on a different onslaught of thoughts, feelings, and emotions, along with the most intense dreams i’ve ever had (and trust me, i’ve always been a dreamer). as i began to increase my dosages, my dreams increased in intensity; vivid nightmares becoming so out of control i became afraid to go to sleep. the main problem was this: i thought they were all real, and i was powerless (often literally, with my legs, mouth, hands, etc no longer working) to stop them.

until one night, i had my first truly lucid dream. i was rollerblading down a neighborhood street by the park i grew up next to, and my family’s old 2004 chevy tahoe was chasing me with a mind of its own (i’d say this shows the extent of how truly ridiculous some of these dreams could become, which was why it felt even worse to wake up in a cold sweat over them). it was gaining on me, i was scared; my feet could no longer move, i was rooted to the spot, panic ensuing; and then i remember having a clear thought: is this real? i pinched myself, the first thing i had ever done voluntarily in a dream state, and it didn’t hurt. that’s when i realized: i was dreaming. and i could do anything. my arms extended, my rollerblades whirred off the concrete, and i began flying overhead, weightless, safe, free.

after that my dreams began to mellow.

i decided to turn this story into one big dream state for a couple of reasons: one, because the plot, settings, and characters were already murky by nature, tightroping the line between reality and delusion; and two, because i had to describe, on some level, the disorientation and dizziness i experienced during this period of my life in order to make sense of it myself. throughout 2024 i revised, rewrote, and chipped away at my model mania story (formerly entitled “body & blood”) until out of the marble mass came my david, “lucid dreaming.” it sat in my google drive, unedited since december 2024, until i recently rediscovered the piece and decided to share it with you all, here.

i’ve made a few edits in the past couple of weeks, mainly grammar/sentence structure, most notably the addition of the first three paragraphs. it’s long, it’s flowery, it’s riddled with symbols and plot holes, and it’s as much an exploration in language as it is in the subconscious. i hope you enjoy ~