The dreams continue to plague me at night. I have lost little sleep, but I never feel rested. Mostly, I am in the same chamber, during the same right. Sometimes, she is a beast with fangs, sometimes a long tentacle claiming my body for its own. I often wake screaming.
The gentleman who lives across the hall from me, Mr. Ersatz, has promised he will call the police if I wake him any further. He claims to sleep early in the evenings, and I have had such nightmares just after dinner when I fall asleep with a book. I am embarrassed, but cannot control them, no matter what I do. No drunken stupor or drug-addling will make them stay at bay, and I feel I am at wits end.
I did research this afternoon regarding the nature of such dreams and the way I might control them. There is a mention of lucid dreaming in one Carl Jung’s texts, but the idea of such a thing eludes me.
The one detail that seems to get me is how persistent all the voices are that I must continue, no matter my reservations. There is even more familiarity in the dream than before, but that is not from sheer repetition. I feel like I am learning more and more, and something aches in the back of my mind to tell me secrets I have long not known, or long forgotten.