Friday, June 21, 2013

Dream on paper.

There is sand everywhere. No, it can't be. 

Yes, there is water somewhere. I can hear it and I can feel it. I cannot see it yet though. My eyes are trying to make sense of the light. Maybe I was sleeping. Sleeping? Why would I be sleeping on the sand in the middle of the day?
I close my eyes.
Its night. The winds are blowing around me, but I do not feel them like I used to. This is the incipient stage of something entirely new. I'm the wind and I'm flying. But I'm also the water and I'm flowing. I'm also lying on the sands. Stationary and moving at the same time. What is happening to me?
How long have I been lying here? How many days, nay years, have I been dreaming? Or was that living and is this the dream? I remember crying. I was crying for a long time. I was crying to someone to let me out. 

I was no longer crying. I was not even lying on the sands. I was elsewhere. I was pulled down for a long time. Gravity? It was so much that I stopped trying and let it take me. I was pushed out of myself.
And then I was happy, deliriously happy. So happy that I was crying again. I was so happy that I thought I was going mad. There are so many things, so many people, so many animals, so many rivers. But I was not seeing them, I was being them.
Maybe madness does feel good. Let me go back now.
There are no eyes for me to close. I want to go back to the sands now.
I'm flowing out. There is an old man with white hair. No, he doesn't look old. Just the white hair. He is curiously like a woman, though. Why is he here? He is laughing... I smile at him first and then I start laughing too... I laugh so much that I close my eyes... When I open my eyes, there is sand everywhere. Its still night. 

I'm lying on the sands. Yes, this is where it all started. I was born here.
O Lord of ghosts, Why am I here again?

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