Two nights ago, I dreamed about disappearing. I was focused only upon point eight on a triangle, and each time I stepped on it, I would disappear. Over and over again, I stepped and disappeared, as the night progressed. Where I went, I cannot tell you, only that it was not of this world. Of this I was sure. Point eight was a portal. A seemingly impossible point on a three-sided triangle that opened the gateway to another realm. It was only when I woke, and the rational mind took over, that I questioned my journey.
A triangle has three points, and not eight.
Or is that the point? Can it be a coincidence that I was sure I was on point eight each time I woke? That each time I was pulled back, the number of infinity lingered inside of my mind, as well as the brilliant white light of the point on the triangle?
Last night, or rather this morning, I dreamt of waves. I stood before an ocean of water, which grew with each pulse. I stood with fear.
Come and get me, I told it. I am not afraid of you.
Over and over again the water threatened to over-take me.
Go ahead, I told it, I am not afraid.
The final surge of blue loomed above me and lingered as though daring me to observe its power. Asking me to look at the full force of what I had dared the water to bring to me. So I looked. With my eyes I travel the mountain of liquid blue until it crested into a wave several feet above my head. Here I looked into the center, which swirled into an eye. There’s the portal, I realized. Go ahead, take me inside.