Every now and then, perhaps more often than normal, I find myself passing through places that give me such a sense of familiarity. I'll feel an overwhelming sensation that I've been there before. I'll remember it in my core so strongly, as if my own mind created that place in the first place, and perhaps it had.
Weaving, interconnecting, underground webs of tunnels take me to that familiar place. Riding the streetcar through Spadina or St. Clair West stations, I'm transported back to that other-worldly time when I was in the dark underground tunnels in my head. Concrete walls slip by outside the window, cut open in places to reveal smaller passages, branching off like twisted memories.
I once had dreams that happened in strange, dark tunnels. Sometimes they were passageways leading to places I had to go; sometimes they were parking garages I felt lost in with my mom and young brother; sometimes they were just the place I was meant to be.
When I ride the streetcar through the aforementioned stations, I'm brought back to these places from my dreams. Maybe the dreams were spurred by the tunnels themselves. Maybe the tunnels are just reminiscent of the dreams. Maybe there's a glitch in the grid...