The Memories

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Science Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
The story is about dreams, memories and three people and how each time they sleep these three people are able to live out entirely separate lives in the space of one nights sleep. From beginning to middle to the end. Each dream is experienced in the first person. These three meet and discuss the meaning behind this extraordinary phenomenon.

Submitted: July 10, 2016

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Submitted: July 10, 2016

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The Memories

I had a dream one day. In the 21th century on a full moon in a mountainous cave, are gathered three men who have been bound together for the space of several hours talking for a long time.I couldn’t make out what they were saying to each other. After they had spoken and each parted ways. One of them was still in the cave and he was writing something on a journal. This is what was written o that journal.

 

-May 12th 2012-

We gathered here tonight for the first time I met the others. With much anticipation I had awaited this day. Hoping to finally solve these experiences.

Often times I wonder if this all one strange never-ending dream. Resulting from all reflections of my past experiences. Sequences that have an unusual connection to each other. For such it has been described in books appertaining to the subject of dreams.

It is a common trait that when a person sleeps their minds are devoid of any true coherence of events, places, time and space. They are composed without order of a mixture of thoughts, desires, fears and ideas. We are active participants in the dreams we inhabit. Oftentimes we play a role and that will lead to one segment of events that leads to another, and the next one to another and so on continually until we wake by being partially or completely rejuvenated by resting.Every person’s dream will vary in relation to another’s but mostly these traits are ever present among the vast majority of people.

We three however share one rare thing in common. That which has united us has been the inexplicable nature and scope of our dreams. We don’t have the kind of dreams the majority of people seem to cope with. Or even the people who seem to have a sort of gift tied with the supernatural. Our dreams are not an incoherent mixed bag of absurdities. They are not visions of the future nor omens to be interpreted by some mystic aficionado claiming to possess the secret knowledge of the unknowable. They are not borne out of our own thoughts neither are they subjective perceptions of the world. There is nothing even remotely reflective about our persons while we dream. They are rather separate isolated events and the only common traits we have with the people in our dreams is the fact that we are all human beings. That is we are born, we live and die. The reasoning behind the nature of our dreams escapes our powers of mental prowess, as inventive and imaginative as we are, this remains to us all a complete and utter mystery. One which we have taken it upon ourselves to solve once and for all.

We can recall in explicit detail every event, person, place, thoughts and ideas of every dream we’ve ever had and continue to have to this day. None of us can recall ever having a nightmare. Or knowing what that feels like. We never awoke screaming into the night with a pillow soaked with sweat coupled with an indescribable feeling of relief from the realization that we escaped with our lives from a fictitious horror brought on by childhood fears and a dread of monsters we indulge in our spare time. We had no control over anything we did in these dreams. Some of us are now even reluctant to define them as dreams but rather as memories.

In them our perspectives remained unchanged. That is we still knew who we were and where came from. But as we beheld the beginning, middle and end of the dream we all compare it to watching a play or a movie. A story. You follow the plot and go where it leads to the end. It doesn’t matter how much you may desire to alter the ending. You always gaze on powerlessly to that alternate reality conjured up by brilliant writers and imaginative fellows. Only the author can change the ending. The creator is the one who holds all the power to transform his creations into something new, something better or stronger. Or even weaker if he so wishes. He can do as he likes for no other reason but because he created it all from the ground up. The rules and destinies were set by him and they stay and unfold as he wishes, not as the audience would have it.And as a passive observer, you carry no voice to something already begun and ended. You’ve no power to stay a hand from striking the final blow. To show mercy when your heart was inclined to give it. To kill in cold blood out of a righteous fury born out of injustice of a cruel man. You can only look on as the heroes and villains of these tales play out their roles and fulfill their purpose. And behold from their own eyes, feel what they feel and grasp an idea of what knowledge they may possess. But you can no more change the outcome of their destiny than could you weigh the oceans of the world with a weight scale or measure the universe with a 12 inch ruler. A very powerful and authoritative force compels that reality to obey and only to obey the commands given. We have come to understand that rules are set that by such a cosmic author cannot be bent nor broken. If they appear so, it is only an illusion and nothing more by the few who perceive themselves powerful enough to challenge what was placed in motion by a greater power than any one man or even the whole of humanity could surpass.

Aside from feeling powerless to change anything we beheld in these dreams. We discovered that in them we lived entire lives. From birth, to childhood, to manhood and to decrepit old age.In different ages, countries and continents as well. We lived as Persians, as Hebrews, as Egyptians, as Greeks, as Russians, as Italians, as Romans, as Europeans, as the English, as the Spaniards, as the Mayans, as the Aztecs, as the Indians, as the Chinese and every other nationality you may imagine. As many as there is diversity and ethnic races that comprise the whole of humanity we can honestly say that we have lived through them as well. Since Prehistoric; Biblical times; Classical times; Ancient times; The Middle Ages, The Renaissance all the way to the modern era. We’ve seen the rise and fall of empires, kingdoms. Revolutions and so much more that did not make it to the pages of history writ in ink. So many unbelievable and extraordinary things that would bring tears to your eyes for their beauty and wonder and such as to also break your heart with grief and fill your minds with dread and horror.Our countless lives have been full of passion, love, excitement, betrayal, piety, lust, solitude, wisdom, folly, genius, power, hatred, envy and all the layers that comprise of life. Because we’ve learned that life has not a single definition, nor a hundred, nor even a thousand. Its meaning is far too complex to contain it in a single word or sentence. But even in our own limited understanding we can only define it as one word and that word is everything. We have lived through many spheres, times and facets of humanity.

We lived the lives of people from thousands of years before our time. We each have lived as kings and beggars. Merchants and thieves. Murderers and men of God. We beheld our rise to greatness and watched as we sunk into the degeneracy levels of vile and cruel men. We were fools, we were sages. We were rich, we were poor. We have suffered, we have partaken in delights. We have loved, we have hated. We have learned much. And each time we awake we acquire something far more valuable than all the gold, silver, jewels, rubies, diamonds and all the wealth of the earth. Of things kept secret for thousands of years and still remain so hidden to this day. We have access and eyewitness testimony of the truth of ancient history. We have peered into the wisdom and knowledge of humanity. Come to understand and feel the vices and the virtues. Of the good and the evil of men. For as long as we can remember, every day has given birth to a new life.

It is as though we are constantly travelling in history in a ship with infinite destinations. And In this ship our cargo is the weight of human existence. We harbor human history because we have felt it. We do not shape it. Because it has already been given form and defined and it is fixed and will remain so forever. But we cannot peer ahead. We cannot live the future as we do the present or the past. This phenomenon is completely beyond anything thought to be possible by our own limited and small minded human measurements of reality.

Despite the extraordinary lives we dream or relive as you will, we still live as men. That is what completely baffles us is the fact that we still retain our old identity as we go through this process night by night. No matter how many times we undergo this process, we endure, we remain. We are able to tolerate the infinite while being small and confined creatures. And this is what puzzles me the most. The simple fact that we retain our sanity and are able to lead full and complete lives in our waking moments suggests that something is allowing us or compelling us to live countless lives over and over again. We have discussed this for several hours and we have agreed to the pretense that life feeds and depends on reality in order to sustain itself. As evidenced by our perpetual need to feed to survive.

From this we came to understand how Life operates. You see, Life attaches itself to all emergent thoughts and actions and those very same ideas, thoughts, and actions are added to the compendium of what the essence of life is. And it continually attaches itself to everything reality produces but it never removes anything that has been added to it. It has been claimed that matter can never be destroyed nor does it disappear. It can only transform. It must always be preserved through some means in our reality. Whether in stories, art, books, histories, monuments of human works. Culture is the curator of life. It works hand in hand with memory and human achievements.

I believe we can also conclude that not all matter need be of a physical nature. After all despite the fact that memories of men while they are abstract in nature, they are located in a physical and organic material confined to space and time. Mainly our minds. They have a place for storage and memories carry tremendous weight in themselves and their very existence influences our own actions and fuels thoughts in our reality.We asked ourselves what happens on a cosmic scale if a person dies and everyone whom they have ever known and all their actions have been blotted out of history, their physical matter gone from off the face of the earth. Where does all that history, all that existence go? If they are not in the past and are not in the present. If their existence has been removed, what can Life do, to accommodate what it has been removed from reality?

Life it seems is wise in how she decides to preserve reality. I believe that she has decided us to be the curators of lost knowledge, history and wisdom. What else can we conclude if after all, our minds are being occupied with the memories of thousands of men and we don’t recall any of those figures in the histories of our world either.She has also been kind enough to let us enjoy our present life as well. We haven’t lived any less because of this strange occurrence. We enjoy living more than we could have lived in our own single lifetime.And we have pledged to guard them as priceless treasures.

I had proposed to write histories of the lives of our new personages each time we gather a new one seeing as how our memories contain every detail of those lives in greater details than our own. We can only give a brief summary of course due to the vastness of human experience at our fingertips but perhaps with that knowledge we can better mankind as well. And when we passed from this present state, perhaps we too will live once more in the memories of a new guardian chosen to preserve our memories once again.


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