Korridorium

♫ Heimkoma ♫

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100/398

“I enter the cor­ri­dor,” you write, dear S., “and although I run with all my might, I never reach the other end, though I long for it so much. What is this meant to tell me?”

Dear S., we all know such dreams in which an unknown force pre­vents us from reach­ing our goals. A cor­ri­dor could rep­re­sent our life path, the side doors or pas­sage­ways sym­bol­ize pos­si­ble or already missed oppor­tu­ni­ties, and the desired end of the cor­ri­dor might sig­nify our great­est wish, our “golden dream” that guides us through life.

But do we ever reach it?

A cor­ri­dor in a dream with­out doors could mean that exter­nal cir­cum­stances or other peo­ple are forc­ing you to fol­low a cer­tain path, leav­ing you with no alter­na­tives.

A cor­ri­dor with many doors that are locked might con­vey the mes­sage to you: Stay focused on your cur­rent path and do not devi­ate from it.

And a cor­ri­dor where you sim­ply can’t seem to make progress might sym­bol­ize a period in your life where every­thing feels stag­nant.

Your dream, dear S., seems to be say­ing to you: No mat­ter how hard you try, you will never reach your goal.

So, is it hope­less for you? Is your dream self telling you to finally give up because you don’t stand a chance? I  think not. On the con­trary, I believe that your dream self is try­ing to show you a way to achieve your goals even despite all your futile efforts.

You try to run. But per­haps your dream cor­ri­dor gets longer and longer the faster you run. Or it’s like in Lewis Car­rol­l’s Alice Through the Look­ing Glass:

“ ‘Well, in our coun­try,’ said Alice, still pant­ing a lit­tle, ‘you gen­er­ally get some­where else if you run very fast for a long time as we have been doing.’ ‘A slow sort of coun­try!’ said the Queen. ‘Now, here, you see, it takes all the run­ning you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get some­where else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!’ ”

So, run­ning twice as fast? That would be bad advice. Your dream seems to sig­nal to me: Pause; take a break; linger for a while.

Dreams are full of magic: Per­haps your dream cor­ri­dor will shorten, and the other end will come within reach, so that you only need to stroll leisurely, or per­haps even take a sin­gle small step!

It’s worth a try—in both life and dreams, isn’t it?

In any case, thank you very much, dear S., for your ques­tion. Sim­i­lar dream expe­ri­ences affect many peo­ple, and often the inter­pre­ta­tion and solu­tion is sim­i­lar to yours. Keep us updated, and write again if a shift in mind­set leads to new and com­pletely dif­fer­ent dream expe­ri­ences.

 

   – C. d’Or (Online dream inter­pre­ta­tion and more: www​.Kor​ri​do​rium​.com)

♫ Glue Trapped ♫

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155/398

“I Enter the Cor­ri­dor” is the title of a col­lec­tion of texts with which an alleged author—male or female, though likely a whole col­lec­tive of mali­cious subversives—is attempt­ing to spread a dan­ger­ous intel­lec­tual virus via the inter­net.

Con­sciously, after the repet­i­tive “I enter the cor­ri­dor,” the read­er’s mind per­ceives only a more or less well-con­structed short story, which often loses itself in incom­pre­hen­si­bil­ity or non­sense and usu­ally lacks a proper punch­line. This is likely inten­tional, because sub­lim­i­nally, the mind absorbs some­thing else entirely dur­ing the read­ing process: The mantra-like rep­e­ti­tion of “I enter the cor­ri­dor” cre­ates a pro­gres­sively nar­row­ing tun­nel vision. Read­ers become par­tic­u­larly sus­cep­ti­ble to mes­sages below the thresh­old of con­scious­ness, con­veyed through hid­den arche­typal key­words.

On the sur­face, the mes­sage of the “I Enter the Cor­ri­dor” texts appears to be an ironic, post­mod­ern play with tropes. In real­ity, how­ever, anti-cap­i­tal­ist and anti-sci­en­tis­tic ideas—so-called “pluridi­men­sional” and thus essen­tially occult ideologies—are sur­rep­ti­tiously trans­mit­ted, sub­ject­ing read­ers to a form of insid­i­ous brain­wash­ing. “I Enter the Cor­ri­dor” imper­cep­ti­bly opens the door to a men­ac­ing ide­ol­ogy, Cor­ri­dorism, which ulti­mately leads to para­noia and the delu­sion that con­spir­a­cies are every­where, and which, in all like­li­hood, ends in a com­plete shat­ter­ing of the nerves.

♫ Booster Doze ♫

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161/398

I enter the Cor­ri­dor. The hotel warmly wel­comes me from its excel­lent loca­tion above the vil­lage of Knos­sos, over­look­ing the archae­o­log­i­cal site of Knos­sos and offer­ing me all mod­ern ameni­ties, just 5 km from Her­ak­lion with its shops, restau­rants, bars, and vibrant nightlife. (Well, that’s the absolute least they could do, right?)

Dec­o­rated in tra­di­tional Greek style, the rooms at the Cor­ri­dor Hotel Knos­sos Palace fea­ture a pri­vate bath­room with a trop­i­cal rain shower, where I also find a hairdryer, bathrobe, slip­pers, and com­pli­men­tary lux­ury toi­letries. (That’s all you’ve got?)

The inte­rior and ambiance of the Bou­tique Hotel Palace Cor­ri­dor are inspired by the leg­endary Labyrinth of Knos­sos, which was awarded the Euro­pean Her­itage Label. (Aha! Now that actu­ally sounds like some­thing!) Attrac­tive, indi­vid­u­ally designed cor­ri­dors adorned with antique art­works and free Wi-Fi through­out the Palace Cor­ri­dor Hotel Knos­sos build­ing wel­come me into a warm, fam­ily-friendly yet con­tem­po­rary, ele­gant atmos­phere where I will feel com­pletely at home—not least thanks to the atten­tive hotel staff. (Oh yes, time to truly unwind. Not hav­ing to worry about a thing. Hav­ing your every wish read right off your lips.)

A deli­cious con­ti­nen­tal break­fast buf­fet is served daily in the hotel’s own restau­rant, Diadro­mos, and in the evening I can relax at the Anak­toro bar with a drink over­look­ing the sur­round­ing land­scape. (Now that’s what I’m talk­ing about, yes.)

As a guest of the Palace Hotel Knos­sos Cor­ri­dor, I also have access to a lounge bar with an LCD satel­lite TV fea­tur­ing pay-per-view chan­nels, and I can enjoy the com­fort of 24-hour room ser­vice. Fur­ther­more, I ben­e­fit from free pub­lic park­ing right at the Cor­ri­dor Palace Hotel Knos­sos. (Dusty road­side dirt lots, I assume.)

I can reach Her­ak­lion Inter­na­tional Air­port “Nikos Kazantza­kis” (HER) from the Knos­sos Hotel Palace Cor­ri­dor by car in just 5 min­utes. Pub­lic buses run every 20 min­utes from a stop located just 30 meters from the main entrance, grant­ing me con­ve­nient con­nec­tions to all tourist des­ti­na­tions across the island from the Hotel Cor­ri­dor Palace Knos­sos. (Yes, lovely, but what…?)

By the way, the Knos­sos Cor­ri­dor Palace awaits me as an eco-friendly hotel mak­ing every effort to be cli­mate-neu­tral. (Yes, fine, but what about the spa? The fit­ness cen­ter, the hair­dresser, the man­i­cure, the wide selec­tion of scrubs, Ayurveda, and mas­sages?! Another total bust. On to the next hotel. It’s all just a click away any­way.)

♫ Some­one’s Gotta Kill’em ♫

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175/398

I enter the Cor­ri­dors of Dark Sal­va­tion (cocOblivionMqKvatchCitadelHall02), first pre­emp­tively increas­ing my Intel­li­gence (mod­pca intel­li­gence 99) and Luck (mod­pca luck 111), and, while I’m at it, I make it snow out of a clear blue sky across the whole land (fw 00038EED). It does­n’t make much dif­fer­ence for this gloomy place. It reminds me of the Rend­ing Halls, and indeed: here I find Blood Foun­tains and Mag­icka Essences once again. I make short work of the Dremora guards (tcai) thanks to the cheat codes. Per­haps at least they will find their very own dark sal­va­tion here…

♫ Entheoge­nomics ♫

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182/398

I enter the cor­ri­dor­gan­roar with keen eardrums. At once astral jets (with the grace of a croc­o­dile’s tear) fire clone-ish upper, over, hyper, and cyber tones into our eleven-dimen­sional after­taste buds, ol’ fac­tory cells, and victim­panums, peel­ing mul­ti­sen­sual-proces­saurally out of the Infi­nite Per­si­len­cium in order to occupy pan­res­o­nant lis­ten­ing out­posts, seep­ing clan­gor-iced into the cas­tratos­phere of our whims, quirks, and schisms—contrapuntally con­front-heavy amidst open-sourced sar­don­ick-nack. Pata­sonic OMGluons—disgustily lust­fully rustling—whisper rhyth­mo­tives, sonar­chi­tec­ton­ics, and long-blast­ing tapedeck­la­ra­tions, ren­der­ing pan­flewd flavours, (de)cadencing del­i­cate metaphors d’oeu­vres, shiv­t­ing spin in full swing into biotronic organ­i­fi­cial­i­ties, ear-tick­ling my laugh­ing mus­cles, emerg­ing and surg­ing against our poe­si­enna-col­ored lis­ten­ing shells, snug­gling quadrill­phon­i­cally into third ears. Whiz. Sound swells. Seazures. Requiem­pa­thy just below the cheer­ing thresh­old. Deci­bel­canto. Dingue-dan­gle. The jan­gly tin­gle of a fleat­ing jin­gle wan­gles us from the bleak bliss of mere app­hear­ances to utterly flir­ri­tat­ing lucidit­ties in our gray matter’s Shangri-labyrinth, until unex­pect­edly a micro­cos­mic sound frag­ment (for a min­i­mal­ice­ful ultra­gi­com­i­cal-infrag­ile Only-Now) trans­ports you into clair-audi­ence/­sooth-hear­ing/lu­cid-lis­ten­ing. In a trice. All ears. Being.

♫ Gläserne Bürger ♫

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189/398

I enter the cor­ri­dor. (Please check one.)

 

🔲 mul­ti­ple times a day; 🔲 1x/day; 🔲 1x/week; 🔲 1x/month; 🔲 almost never.

 

I want more color here. And pho­tos. And videos of cor­ri­dors.

 

🔲 yes, absolutely; 🔲 I’d like that; 🔲 don’t know; 🔲 keep it min­i­mal­ist!

 

I want more erotic con­tent here. (Check all that apply.)

 

🔲 18+; 🔲 only after 10 p.m.; 🔲 vanilla sex only; 🔲 in the cor­ri­dor?

 

I can do with­out the back­ground music. The texts are okay.

 

🔲 exactly; 🔲 I have the radio on any­way; 🔲 what­ever; 🔲 what music?

 

The sound­tracks are rad. I can do with­out the sto­ries.

 

🔲 it’s all annoy­ing; 🔲 both are inspir­ing; 🔲 are there down­load links?

 

I want to be able to like, dis­like, and heart (and maybe plus, if applic­a­ble).

 

🔲 can’t live with­out it; 🔲 once in a while; 🔲 what for?

 

I want to leave com­ments and reply to com­ments.

 

🔲 nei­ther; 🔲 both.

 

I would like to receive updates about mer­chan­dise prod­ucts.

 

applies.

 

I hereby con­firm that I have read and under­stood your revo­ca­tion pol­icy.

 

yes.

 

Please return the com­pleted ques­tion­naire to us. You will be entered into a raf­fle. Your data will be ana­lyzed by every trick in the book, cross-ref­er­enced, and prof­itably resold.

♫ Nel mezzo del cam­min di nos­tra vita ♫

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199/398

I enter the cor­ri­dor. (Pre­vi­ously on…: Many dif­fer­ent cor­ri­dors have been entered by var­i­ous per­sons of all gen­ders, in dif­fer­ent eras, and for a mul­ti­tude of rea­sons.) I was told I’d find you here. (Some of the sto­ries end well, some badly; many are barely sto­ries at all, and some have open end­ings.) Sure enough: Behind a plas­tic sheet on some scaf­fold­ing, I see a sil­hou­ette. (Besides his­tor­i­cal fig­ures, a hand­ful of extrater­res­tri­als, ani­mals, and non-phys­i­cal beings, numer­ous first-per­son nar­ra­tors appear whose iden­ti­ties remain dubi­ous.) A paint­brush moves steadily across the ceiling—the cor­ri­dor is receiv­ing a fresh coat of blue. (The nar­ra­tive style shifts from fac­tual to exu­ber­ant, from doc­u­men­tary to fairy­tale and sur­real, from word­play to exis­ten­tial­ist; included are satires of cur­rent pop-cul­tural phe­nom­ena.) And there you are: It’s you wield­ing the brush, with blue flecks in your ash-blond hair, hum­ming our song, obliv­i­ous to the world. (For reg­u­lar read­ers, numer­ous hid­den cross-con­nec­tions between the cor­ri­dors emerge in this frac­tally frag­mented blog-novel…) I take you in my arms, and you bliss­fully close your eyes. (…and in a cer­tain way, it seems to be about dif­fer­ent aspects of one thing, or stages of a par­tic­u­lar quest.) “What’s your name this time?” I ask. (It could be about the search for the blue flower, the Grail, or the Snark; for hap­pi­ness, love, mean­ing, myth, or insight—and per­haps this will be revealed as the story pro­gresses.) “Red Naia,” you gig­gle, swing­ing the paint­brush like a sword. Not to be out­done, I bare my hairy chest and thun­der: “Then I am Tino Urmaus, the Bar­bar­ian!”