Dear Linguist,

I’ve found myself in quite a strange dream.

I’m walking alone in the snow. The street lights dimly illuminate the area around me but beyond them, I can see nothing. People walk past and across me periodically, but they don’t acknowledge me. Perhaps this is for the better. In fact, I’m sure I prefer it this way. The streets are all lined with houses, and from their windows comes a warm and comforting glow. Although I never saw any movement or heard any sounds from them, I’m convinced that there is life in those houses. Even if you were to walk in there and come back out to tell me that the houses were empty I wouldn’t believe you. That’s the sort of feeling the houses gave off.

I continued to walk, never stopping, never getting the slightest bit tired. Interestingly, despite the snow, I never once felt cold either. It was quite a tranquil experience. Simply wandering around without knowing where you are or where you’re going. With no beginning and no destination, it seems far easier to take notice of the journey. You notice the cracks in the walls and the weathered-down, half-torn posters on the utility poles. You notice people’s expressions and how they struggle with their phones through their gloves. You notice yourself, and you become hyper-aware of your own thoughts and presence.

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It was these things that clouded my mind as I slowly approached the darker end of the street, trodding slowly, as if reluctant to continue forward. Then I began to hear the noises. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear people screaming. Their footsteps were erratic and the sounds kept coming closer and farther away. The sounds made me tired. I had only noticed them now but it felt as if I had been listening to them ceaselessly for eternity.

Then just as soon as it faded to black, it faded back to white.

That is the condition of the character at present.

Unfortunately, I do not remember anything else of much importance that helped me make sense of the situation. But there is one small thing I noticed. Perhaps this will help with your interpretation.

The longer I walked, the more painful and dry my eyes began to feel. I could not blink. Or maybe I simply forgot that I could. Regardless I simply just could not take my eyes off what was going on in front of me. Whether willingly, subconsciously or forced, I kept my eyes glued to the beauty of the scenery and especially of the houses. Even as I write this now I miss the warmth of the houses. I hope I may be able to emulate that feeling someday.

Now tell me Linguist, what does this mean? What was happening to me?

I’m so very tired.