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Consciousness does not vanish as dreams do. No noise, no bell scares her off, nor does any shout or clatter issue from her. Hazy and ambiguous are images in dreams, which can be explained in many various ways. Consciousness denotes consciousness, and that's the greater enigma. There are keys to dreams. Consciousness opens of her own accord and does not let herself be shut. From her school report cards and stars issue, and butterflies, and the souls of old irons, caps without heads and pieces of clouds. It becomes a riddle without a solution. Without us there would be no dreams. He, without whom there would be no consciousness is unknown, while the product of his insomnia is imparted to everyone who awakes. |
It is not the dreams that are crazy, Consciousness is crazy, not unlike the tenacity with which it clings to the course of events. In our dreams our recently deceased lives on, and even enjoys good health and recaptured youth. Consciousness places before us his dead body. Consciousness does not yield as much as one step. The airiness of dreams causes their memory to be shaken off easily. Consciousness need not fear being forgotten. She is a difficult trick. She sits on our shoulders, weighs down on our heart, and tumbles beneath our feet. There's no escape from her for she accompanies each flight. And there's no station along the course of our journey where she is not waiting for us. |