terça-feira, 23 de outubro de 2007

My own eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

Watching this movie was a complete deja vu for me.

Yes, because I saw it more than once, of course, but mainly because it reminds me of my sleepwalking and the sensation I get everytime I wake up standing in another place that not my bed. I understood completely what Joel Barish felt by seeing himself instantly in a totally different place, not understanding what, why or how that was happening. Or getting details kept in memory that don't have anything to do with each other, all mixed up.

The exactly same thing happens to me in my sleep. Usually when I'm tired, my brain creates this complex plots during my dreams, and almost making them so real to me that I wake up and try to deal with the dreamt situation even being awake. It's only at a short time of conscientiousness that I try to force my brain to understand the reality, to see where I am and return to bed, embaraced.

My first wave of sleepwalking took place two years ago - I always had this dream that I would go visit a house with some other people, and while seeing an empty room, I stopped to look for the others who were with me before. No one is there anymore nor the room is open. I try desperately to find the way out, while screaming for help, and there is no door I can find, what makes me search for a passage or a simple way out (Perhaps like Alice in Wonderland, trying to find a way to go through the small door.)

Suddenly I wake up, because somehow I understood that the things I'm touching in order to find this passage are really part of my bedroom and not of some crazy dream. And there I am standing by the wall just trying to reach a way out, feeling desperate while my heart beats so fast as if I had really no solution. And unless I find my true door or true window, there is no other passage (no true rat holes that could help me either ). I´ve been to my doctor because of this, and it probably has just to do with tiredom. What worries me mostly is not being able to have a good night sleep and also, not controlling my words that come out during the night. I remember sharing a room with two close friends, waking up in the morning and having them laugh, because I just "told them all my life while sleeping". I wonder if I can keep my secrets with me.

But even so I continue having a strong physical and mental connection to my sweet little brain, even if I don´t intend to. As we say in portuguese, "nao fosse ele o meu".
He's probably just trying to help me having a better imagination - a good one is just the essential for someone to be happy, I think - but everyone knows that there are some kinds of help which just overwhelm you in a exceeded way.


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