The Awful Opulence Of The Dream

[Dr. Bantham]

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Nevertheless, while I was deprived of the privilege of a natural rest, there may have also been some profit gained: the awful opulence of the dream, a rich and swollen world nourished by the exhaustion of the flesh. The world, in fact, as such. Any other realm seemed an absence by comparison, at best a chasm in the fertile graveyard of life.       Thomas Ligotti - “Mrs. Rinaldi's Angel” Added by: Dr. Bantham on 06-09-2007 #15

[Doctor Munoz]

Every time I dream, what I find more moving about my dreams is their quality of being me. The landscapes you see in a dream: lofty buildings or misty valleys, they are closer to you, they are “you” more than your voice, or your hands. The feeling of alienness that sometimes assault you when you see your face on the mirror, or face violence or pettiness (even in yourself) it never happens in dreams. Dreams can be really weird, full of haunted landscapes and painfully beautiful faces. But the awe comes from recognition, from remembering you loved that face before, you walked these shadowy paths, along the dark stream. Awe stems from being, at last, in “the world, in fact, as such”. A world of your own making at last. “Any other realm seemed an absence by comparison...” The real world is never you. There is always an absence: yourself.