Scattered Dreams & Dragonflies

Backwards to origin

I find myself standing in an open space, an environment teeming with other beings. Everyone focused on their own affairs, with a clear destination, all unrelated, all disconnected from my objective—one not even I could perceive at the moment as I stood, intently watching all that happened around me. Tall, elegant beige marbled patterns, pierced with dashes of glistening dusky black, decorated the four walls surrounding me. It all clashed together with the bustling sound of conversations, the arrhythmic emittance of footsteps building unevenly into a cacophony of confusion and deception. Like water and oil, elegance and haphazardness fought a never-ending turf war for identity in the space. All the while, I contemplated the scenery around me, taking it all in. In front of me, a charcoal-colored railway stood unoccupied, separated gently by a smaller gate. The space resembled an oval-shaped ceiling, followed by the same beige walls, but with less detail, all the way down to the separate rails.

The space was unsoiled; the smell of freshly cleaned sheets was apparent. In fact, it was surprising, as a place such as this, frequented as it may have been, would undoubtedly resemble a smell more mixed and unidentifiable. Many different lives would frequent such a place to reach their next destination and wander off, never to be seen by my eyes again. Regardless of the aesthetic, regardless of the smell, I was present in this place, and due to my closeness to the rails, it was safe to assume that I intended to ride the train that would soon come into view.

Within moments, I felt a light vibration; it slowly crawled up my feet as the piercing lights could be seen coming from deep within the rails. A sharp sound, mixed with tremors, shook my very core gently as I saw the arrival of the awaited vessel. To my surprise, the transporting vehicle looked far from what I was expecting. The image in my mind of urban transportation slowly morphed into what I could describe as a rollercoaster cabin ride. A rather small rollercoaster train had arrived. I just stood in disbelief as I saw the car moving in reverse, having one of its many cabin-carrying seats stop before me. The sound of pressurized air slowly became apparent as the machine lifted its seat harness as if inviting me to go in.

The train was covered in varied metallic tones of blue, separated by a bright golden line that crossed the whole train amongst the cars. After a few moments, I decided to go in. Sitting down, I could feel the harsh material of the hardened rubberized seat brushing against my skin. It was, in a sense, uncomfortable; however, it still felt as if it were made for me. Even with the harsh rubber grazing incessantly against my skin, I could slowly feel the shape of the seat gently accommodating every inch of my body. Almost as if the seat were tailor-made for me and created for that particular moment.

As I began to adjust and feel comfortable, the seat harness began to close. Almost without warning, I found myself quickly adjusting to allow the harness to completely close in. I was now ready for the ride, but where? Just before leaving the station, I remembered a very interesting detail about the train that had arrived. It was rather shocking to see a rollercoaster in a place like this, and arriving backwards, nonetheless. "That would imply that..."

Before finishing my thought, I found myself already in motion. I could feel the pressure of the harness on my chest as I tilted forward. We had begun moving backwards. With a subtle push of the machine, the already familiar sound of pressurized air was heard once more, scattering its cry, echoing across the vicinity. Small instances of what could be described as smoke gently accumulated in the air as I looked around. Soon they were left behind as the vehicle commenced its motion. As we moved backwards, the initial image of the place I boarded was left behind, only for the memory to remember.

Something felt off, if I was being completely honest. As if not by comical self-awareness, it was more than an understatement to consider an oddity finding myself riding what looked to be a roller coaster. I seemed rather complacent with the fact. However, what stood out as an outlier was the momentum of the shuttle, pushing us backward instead of forward. It seemed odd, ridiculous in fact. However, as a willing passenger, I took it all in stride, almost as if it were something routine, part of the days that came and went. A normal activity in which I found myself all too familiar.

Abandoning the greeting hallways, we embarked backward into a dimly lit corridor. As I sat in place, out of instinct, I proceeded to hold on tight to the harness readily strapped to my chest. The reasoning behind the tight pressure in my hands holding on to the harness would soon reveal itself as the machine began picking up speed rather drastically. I fought every moment to keep my head in place, as the momentum of the cart's speed forced my head forward. Sooner than not, the empty darkness of the environment engulfed the machine as well, and I found myself losing complete vision of my surroundings. With only the remnant of light emanating from the once starting point of the shuttle, I braced myself once more, grabbing the harness, as the initial backward speed drastically increased in intensity. With little control over the swaying of my head, the next few moments were spent leaning forward, with my head down. I had only the momentum of the machine to go on as I felt its movement take a spiral direction, spinning downwards in quick succession as if caught in a powerful whirlpool.

It was a familiar feeling; one I remember seeking in my past as an avid roller coaster enthusiast. With a ride that lasted the better part of a few moments, such a thrill only brought me once again to its conception. I cryptically found myself back at the starting point, the same place I had departed from a mere second ago. Where was I going? What was the point? Where lay the purpose of such a trip? The scenery held no relation as it pertained to entertainment-type affairs, so why was I tasked with boarding such a pointless shuttle voluntarily? More than anything, there was an even bigger question in my mind: how was the movement of the machine any indicator of returning to the starting point if I felt like I was going downwards?

When it comes to considering the meaning behind such a dream in time, much of life's affairs can feel like a backward-spinning roller coaster. The view can be narrow and mysterious. We could equate the thought of backward motion to an air of uncertainty, as we can see only what appears in our field of view at a time. It is only, however, in certain moments like these when we travel ridden in uncertainty that may lie our biggest treasure. Many amazing things await those with the courage to embark on a journey where nothing is given. However, even if a perfect voyage and an all-too-good experience in a journey, you are still not owed a pleasant outcome. You might even be brought back, back to square one.