I had a dream last night

I dreamt of a place that was not

    Actually a place

I call it a suspended space

    But it wasn’t a space

    No, it was an absence of space

I can not explain what it was

I was there

    Wasn’t I?

But I could not be there

    I’m not sure I was there at all

I’m not sure there was there at all

        Nevertheless...

I perceived something to be there

    Perhaps my perceptions were distorted...

Or maybe it was the lack of a palpable something there

    Perhaps I was lacking...

But I sensed that perhaps I had stumbled onto something terribly important

And as I reached to grasp this new concept...

    I was elsewhere

Elsewhere was far more interesting

---

In that place

    And I call it a place

There were things both palpable and tangible

An all-consuming stillness

    My breath was disruptive

An overwhelming silence

    My thoughts were screams cutting across this place

I could not

    Think

    Move

    Breathe

    Exist

    And definitely not stay there

It was all very stifling

    Or did I mean fascinating?

        Nevertheless...

There is definitely never making my list of favorite vacation spots

I was elsewhere again

---

I appeared in some kind of place

A place on the brink of something

    Reality?

    Sanity?

    Life?

    Death?

I walked a very fine line here

I had to make sure I didn’t tip the balance...

That this place didn’t tumble off the edge into

    Oblivion

    The end

    Whatever was waiting at the bottom

I waited for...

    something

    anything

...To happen in this place with a distinct lack of anything to offer

I didn’t expect the Other

I was shocked when...

    He?

    She?

...Made a sudden entrance to the equation

I wanted to ask a question

    Where are we?

    How have we come to be here?

    What lies over the edge?

The voice of the Other ripped through this place like a child’s hands through colored construction paper

    It echoed

“We are standing between Truth and Lie

There is no way to say how you have come to be here...

    Only that you are

...And that must be enough”

“And what lies over the edge?” I asked the Other

My voice echoed

“Nothing,” replied the Other

I looked down

    A part of myself grew cold in this place with no cold

    A memory of joy shriveled into darkness and crumbled into dust

    A part of me died...

“Do not look into the abyss, for the abyss will look into you,” the Other intoned.

Then I woke up.

God, I hate when I dream in Nietzche.