on dreams.

24 July 2011

I.

had a dream of you again. 'again' as in so many times that i have already given up to count. this time it was a long, incessant one across the night which left me awoke in a state of fatigue.

II.

accidentally you were here and then i did everything trying to keep you with me for as long as i could. you took my hands. my heart still trembles into my bones when i come to think of it as if an inevitable fact. you were fast asleep then like an infant, the softness of your existence smoothed out the night. i looked at you in silence. my eyes refused to remove themselves from the very sight of you. i'm certain it's the point when i went deepest in sleep beacuse it's the point when i wanted time to paralyze for ever after. now that the dream has diminished into memory it becomes a jumble of secondhand fragments. i can no longer re-construct it, not to mention re-tell it, the way i experienced it.

III.

i'm disappointed that even in a dream my mind is so much mastered by sense and overpowered by reason. i had to conceal myself from getting closer to you and i had to reason against my own reason of love. i followed my heart anyway, despite the guilt. but i can still see them staring with an eye of suspicion.

IV.

it's amazing how the very notion of time can become totally twisted and elastic (but never irrelevant) in the territory of dreams. i know beause i am a frequent dreamer. i have seen a lot of things in dreams (e.g dinosaurs, lifeboats, london in moonlight, ghosts, japanese soldiers, wars, students, colleagues... an inexhausible list goes on) but i have never seen a clock. i consider it fortunate as i am not the least interested in knowing the passing of time, not when i am dreaming. the end of time means the end of a dream, which every so often upsets me, for sometimes i don't want to wake up at all but time drags me out of it with force.

daylight broke in as a constant reminder of parting. it outshone our shortlived belonging. what i remember next is that they came searching for you. your cell phone kept vibrating with malignant messages and calls. finally we were sent back to our seperate worlds and our tie broke again like a fragile sewing thread. the next soonest time i get to see you again i know i'll be in dreams. and i always wonder if it's possible that two people are sharing the same dream at the same time.

V.

the remembrance of you weighs upon me like a book with a story that only gets longer and longer in time. it's however written in a language which i don't know. what am i supposed to do.