Snooze ripples

You were aware of having to wake up soon and not wanting to.  Through your dreamy fuzz you half wondered what the weather was going to be like and whether you could take your bike to school. 

You’d been dreaming about holding hands with a nice girl again. You didn’t know who she was but that didn’t matter.  She showed you attention and affection.  Unfortunately she wasn’t with you in bed because she wasn’t actually real. 

You woke but you didn’t. 

In your bed but not.  Hearing wind and rain spatter against your window, you shivered, still without opening your eyes.  Then you were awake.  Except you weren’t. 
Everything seemed familiar and comfortable.  But it shouldn’t have been.  You’d never been there before in your life, although it all felt normal enough.  You were aware of the other people in rooms nearby, people your age but not related.  It was pissing down outside.  How were you going to get to school?  Biking in would be quicker than walking, but you’d get wet.  There was the bus, but you hated the bus, the people.  The stress of making the decision was too much.  Then you got confused. 

What time was it?  The red LCD display of your clock radio (but not really your clock radio) said one thing, said it was time to get up and begin the day.  But surely it was still way too dark outside?  It was still very dark, nightime and raining.  Was it really just the clouds making it that dark outside?  It was a day that wouldn’t inspire the most vivacious, annoyingly cheerful, life-loving person to get up. 

You walked across your room and pressed the button to start up your aged television.  It clunked, struggled for a second, then revealed the breakfast news.  Two people sitting on a sofa, smiling.  The time in the bottom corner of the screen was two hours earlier than your clock radio said it was.  Why was that?  You trusted the television over your clock radio – it was controlled by someone else so it must be right – so you flopped back into bed, surrendering, allowing it to envelop you in all its swallowing glory.

You sank back into an unconsciousness which you’d never actually left.  Soon after, too soon after, so soon after that it was surely plain wrong – your clock radio went off, you joined the radio newsreader reading news mid-sentence and involuntarily tried to compute what he was saying.  You stopped trying as quickly as you’d started.  Aha, reality, you were sure of it this time – although you had been sure last time too. 

Now you were amused at how real your dream had felt, surprised to feel disappointed that the horrible, grey wintry weather of the dream was complete fiction.  You’re bored by this interminable summer sunshine which everybody is commanded to unconditionally love.  It bullies you into being outside, feeling like you should be outside even if you don’t want to be outside. 

Still lying there, you wondered, only for a second, how and why you were so convinced this one was your reality.  If you’d have pressed the snooze button and turned off your clock radio right then, slunk back into unconsciousness, would you have emerged shortly afterwards, teleported into another alternative, more real feeling reality you were convinced was your own? 

Then if that one wasn’t ideal, if you never woke up in a bed flanked by beautiful girls, happy with yourself and your life, then you could just try again. 

And again.  Until?  You found it, you died, you compromised, you gave up?   So would you try that, just keep hitting Snooze until..? 

No, you decided.  Your mum would get pissed off and you’d be late for school.


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