Nice Dream
I had a dark day yesterday. It was all stormy and cloudy, and pretty crowded in my mind. The brain worms were dormant, and I was left to think my own thoughts about life, which can be quite depressing sometimes.
Not even the pub could stir me from my self-imposed malaise. That's a concern, because I like a good tipple, now and again.
Wearily I wander home.
Home. Sleep. The melancholy embrace of something or other, look… I don't remember it, because I was pretty tired, so I just passed out. There may have been sinking into pillows. There might have been the sandman, but that's creepy. Strange men (be they anthropomorphic personifications or not) in your room after dark. It's not on.
So I slept. Considering I'm guilty of everything, and have money trouble and problems at work, and no love life… it was the sleep of the righteous and just, undisturbed. I'd like to thank my Mum for that dream catcher, because there must be a bunch of nightmares trapped in it. Do I need to take it outside and empty it? Not sure, will look into it later.
Gradually a dream came to me. This dream was weird, because I've been allowed to remember it.
It was a dream of the future. Blinding sunlight, piercing blue sky, clear of everything but the occasional bird. The Ocean, yes it was there, as was the sand. The sand was hot, but cool down where the tide was washing in. Bare feet. There were bare feet, waves washing and… CHILDREN. That's frightening. 4 of them, of varying age…as in the ages of the children kept changing as I looked at them. They grew old, then grew young. They were toddlers, and then adults with the ghost of the potential of their own children with them. Then teenagers. Then babies.
They were pretty bloody happy, the ungrateful little sods.
And then there was… you. Yeah, I saw you. Holding my hand. I know. Oh I so know the truth now. You were there, you were the “mother”.
I was home. I was with someone, and there were children and happiness. Not a spec of sadness. It was great. A dream of love. Not had one of them for years.
But ultimately still a dream, because if it was real then there would have been cut feet, and crying and fights between the kids, no to mention us, which just goes to show a dream isn't really worth anything.
Fucking dreams. Today I'm going to try harder in the pub. Who's in?