“He felt that his whole life was a dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.”
– Douglas Adams
I think consciousness is just one big dream.
And when it ends, we wake up in the void. Only it is an emptiness. To wake up from a dream without a dream is to wake up in nothing at all.
And maybe even that emptiness is another kind of dreaming, and some other metaphysical form can wake up from that dream; and maybe the secret to life and the universe and everything is an onion, with layers and layers of dreaming sheathed upon one another, and one that we will be peeling back for all eternity.
Who knows what kind of forms dream the dreams beyond our own? We can’t possibly imagine it. Maybe they aren’t forms at all, but something beyond solidness and light and everything we know. Maybe the layers they inhabit are the parallel universes, the thousands of dimensions crinkled and folded like origami stretching outwards further than time and space.
Either way, it doesn’t really matter.
We all have one dream, to savor and enjoy. Just one.
Might as well make it a good one, so the colours of our dreams can seep and vivify the dreams of others for years to come.
Might as well make it worth it, so we can wake up from it with a smile on our nebulous faces, eh?