Last night I dreamt that I was on the edge of a vast canyon billowing with rising steam. The sky was blue and sat at my eye line, I was amongst the clouds, but there were none to be seen. Except for the steam. The canyon itself was steep and cavernous and I was surrounded by millions of people who began to appear in my sight through the mist who were dotted around the edges. People were down the sides of the canyon, the rock jagged in points with different places to stand deeper as the cliff descended through the vapour. All around me these people were jumping into the nothingness, the steam rising to mask their silhouettes and gone in just a whiff of thin air. Where were these people jumping? I found myself asking aloud, to which a stranger suddenly spoke.
“The drop off allows you to leave where we are for 3 months and just float. You will come back eventually, but no sooner than in 3 months time.” The sun is beating down, the air pressure is tight, we’re up so high, it feels like we could be at the tip of a volcano. I’m starting to consider jumping. What is 3 months anyway. A long time in my opinion, but isn’t ¼ of a year a small sacrifice to the burning curiosity of what lies within the drop? What sets me apart from everyone else on the cliff top? Why are they all jumping? Some of these people are even diving.
I look around me and see everyone smiling, the sun gleaming off their foreheads, excitedly waiting their turn to shuffle to the edge and jump. The tangible feeling in the air is anticipation, kind of like we are all in a line waiting to try a slide at the waterpark. What brought us all here? How can I get off? That doesn’t seem to be an option actually. I’m definitely dreaming, that’s when I realise, but for a moment I sit with the idea that I’m on top of a vast natural landscape with complete strangers who are diving into nothingness for the next 3 months. With noone by my side except these animals jumping into oblivion.