My home for my entire life. My entire life. I must leave it. I must leave it now. But how to escape one’s city? How to wake oneself enough for the frightening task? And how to find one’s way out? I never really know anything for sure – except that after a lifetime of trying and many botched attempts, this time I’m leaving for good. Again. I’ve got my own ticket. I just have to make my way through town, through everything I’ve ever seen and lived, everything I’ve loved and forgotten. Through the thick furry frost and out to the city limits. Then I’m on my way. Out of here. These are the reasons we’re here. These are these reasons we’ve stayed. These are the reasons I’m leaving. My mother. Her lap, a magnetic pole, a direction from which I can’t turn for long. It must be the sleepiness. If only I can stay awake, pay attention to where I’m going, where I’ve been, and get out of here. Stay awake. Stay awake. We sleep as we walk. Walk as we dream. And because we dream of where we walk and walk to where we dream, we are always lost, befuddled. Asleep on foot. Why is this so? Why are we so sleepy? Why can’t we just open our eyes? We don’t know. We sleep. We sleepwalk.
Guy Maddin in My Winnipeg