As we sleep, a world springs up around us of its own accord. It lives outside of us, shifting and moving and mutating as a disjointed narrative unfolds. Often we are unaware of the strange qualities of the space until after we wake up.
Freud writes that the feeling of the uncanny can resemble the “sense of helplessness sometimes experienced in dreams.” That feeling of powerlessness is described as a terrible and horrifying feeling. But I think it’s also grounding; it humanizes and reminds us of our mortality, obliging us to wake up and wonder at our fragile and fleeting surroundings.