Boxed In

Every night I have the same dream.

There’s this box, huge and sort of opaque. I can move around it, even up over it, and it’s massive, dominating the landscape. Well, I think there’s landscape, its a little unclear. The dream is about the box, after all. So I can drift about the box, and I’m sort of drawn to it, because inside is this woman, pressed up against the glass.

At first I thought this was one of those anxiety dreams, y’know, where I’m trying to get to her, and she’s a symbol of, like, what I want in my life. Not a literal woman, or anything, but a sort of metaphorical one. A metaphorical woman. Fucking hell thats terrible, listen to me. Well, listen to my subconscious anyway. Objectifying bastard I should slap myself.

But that was only my first thought, right? Because maybe she’s trying to get to me, and I don’t want to get to her, and that big opaque box is a prison, and really I’m scared of women, and need to confine them in some way. Which isn’t a great line of thought at 3 in the morning, when its cold and it’s dark and the introspection gets to you. Maybe I’m alone because it’s easier than being with someone? Maybe thats what it’s trying to tell me?

But now I don’t think it’s that at all. Now i think its something far simpler. I think I’m the woman on the inside, trapped in a large box, with people passing outside, squinting in, trying to work out what I mean to them.

I think we all are.

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Matt Farr
Matt likes to read, watch and play things, and then spread his opinions to whomever will listen. Caution: Opinions may be contained in this Product.
Matt Farr

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