Deep Sleep
David Michael Newstead | The Philosophy of Shaving
Last week of November 2023. Deep sleep every night. I had intense dreams. Nonsensical dreams. Each one of them was totally different, a mishmash of memories and things out of place. I thought I would remember all the details when I woke up, but they faded away after a while. The first night the dream was about my father or at least the idea of my father. I hadn’t thought about him in a while. I don’t think he was even in the dream. I was planning an international flight for us back to the United States. Or something like that. It didn’t matter. In real life, that never happened. Everything else in the dream either wasn’t true or was a funhouse mirror distortion of partial truths, pieces of events separated by years now conjoined in my mind. The second night I had a nightmare. I don’t recall anything about it really. Just that I woke up earlier than usual and with a real sense of urgency like I had to take action right away or that I was in danger. It was still dark outside and whatever I was afraid of disappeared with the dream. Then, I rolled over and went back to sleep. Paradoxically, I slept so well that week, was so rested, but god only knows what offscreen drama was playing out in my head. I only remember a few other bits and pieces now. Criminally short days. A cold week in November. A man alone with his thoughts.