I have suffered from sleep paralysis several times, and it’s a really scary thing that I’ve never knew how to explain, but this is a very good explanation:
“At first, you can’t move. It feels like you’re waking up, except your arms and legs and head and tongue are all frozen in place. You want to cry for help, but you can’t. You’re betrayed by your body, paralyzed. You lie there as your breathing begins to quicken, your heart rate jolting, until you see it: a shadowy figure in the room, moving closer. Maybe it’s a man in a dark cloak. Or maybe it’s an old woman, grotesque and witchlike. Either way, there is something sinister—and you are there, in your bed, powerless to do anything.
This real-life horror is known as sleep paralysis: a half-dreaming, half-wakeful state that leaves your body immobilized while you encounter nightmarish visions of terror. By some estimates, it affects about 6 percent of the general population, many of whom are left without an explanation for what happened to them. Was it a dream? Was it reality? Was it supernatural—and will it happen again?”
I’ve had several experiences of this kind, mostly related to the type of sinister figures described in the article, but I remember specially one occasion in which the hallucination was auditory, not visual.
Enstasy (Gk., en-stasis, ‘standing into’). The experiences, or abolition of experience, arising as a consequence of those meditational, etc., techniques which withdraw the practitioner from the world, and even from awareness of the self.
When a film starts like this, it must be good (Saul Bass, of course). A paranoia, a dystopian history about who we are and who we would like to be. And, like all good science fiction films, with a lot of reflections between the lines.
“En cada acción siempre queda irrealizada la posibilidad contraria. Tenemos que elegir y decidirnos entre quedarnos en casa o salir, trabajar o no hacer nada, tener hijos o no tenerlos, reclamar el dinero o perdonar la deuda, matar al enemigo o dejarlo vivir. El tormento de la elección nos persigue constantemente. No podemos eludir la decisión, porque «no hacer nada» es ya decidir contra la acción, «no decidir» es una decisión contra la decisión”.
La enfermedad como camino Thorwald Dethlefsen y Rudiger Dahlke