When I was a kid I could lucid dream and I discovered how to make myself wake up: if I closed my eyes in a dream, I would open them and be awake in my bed. The scariest parts of the dreams were when I wanted to wake up the most, and of course, those are the times it became more difficult to escape.
One night, I dreamt Santa Claus convinced me to sneak out of my house and took me on his sleigh back to his summer vacation home.
First of all, fuck you for representing Santa Claus in this analogy. BUT. As a kid you’re taught to trust and love Santa Claus despite your instinct to be a little skeptical at first. You’re nice, he brings you gifts, you leave him cookies, it’s mutual and its easy. So, yeah, you’re Santa Claus. You’re someone I trusted that made me creep away from the comfort of my home out of nowhere, in the middle of the night, to explore something I’ve never seen.
Now once I got back to Santa’s place I realized I had been there for longer than I should’ve been and decided it was time to to go home. And when I couldn’t figure out how to get home, I began to panic and decided I wanted to wake up. So I blinked. And nothing happened. I blinked and blinked and when I couldn’t wake up I tried by hitting my head off of Santa Claus’s furniture. Still nothing.
So that’s where I am now. I thought I would snap out of it, but the more days pass and the more I scrunch my face to blink harder, and bang my head off of couches and chairs, I don’t wake up. I want to move on, I want to forget the vacation house that I still walk through from time to time. I wish it was all a dream because eventually you do wake up from a dream. But for now I’m stuck in a nightmare with an evil Santa Claus as my villain.
