Yes, I know, it’s been a long time.
Lot to do this Sunday. Not really. I’m taking my time to get around to doing very little. Not that I’m feeling overly depressed, I’m just not sure of where I am or where I’m going. I don’t even know where I want to go. Not even where I would wish to go.
Well, if I could be exactly where I wish to be I guess I’d be curled up with you in some nice bed somewhere and not leave it for a few days or maybe a week. Take a break from the world and the life outside of that little oasis of dream-like state of mind. I know that its only a dream and that it most likely will remain only a dream I can allow myself to dream because its harmless to dream of you and be half a world away. Yet, at times you’ve seemed so close and so within reach I’ve almost reached out to touch you. Illusion of course. The play of light and shadow upon my screen.
Sometimes I feel your closeness in my mind, where my thoughts are always in some way about you or about how much I wish you’d be something more than just a dream I can dream at this far away place where you are out of reach, out of sight and sometimes seem like a mirage more than a real human being of flesh and blood and mind.
Sometimes when I dream those dreams of you, I awake and feel a very sharp sadness and pain pass through me. At times I even curse myself for obsessing over you the way I do. It seems a lot of energy wasted sometimes and I wish I just could let it be and get moving. Those moments of doubt pass quickly and I’m back to where I was, in my dream of you.
However it would be ridiculous of me to presume to deny that I don’t wish for my dream to become real. Of course I do. I don’t know if I would be able to handle the reality of my dream but what would be the point of dreaming of you and not wanting it to be real at some point? Questions I have no answer to keep haunting me. Over and over I return to the point of doubting myself and my potential value in the world. At the same time as I tell myself I’m good enough I hear the laughter behind my back coming from my own soul. Who do I think I’m fooling. Good enough? Get out of town. And so the thoughts and feelings and dreams keep rotating without reaching any destination or conclusion.
Sunday, again. I’ve been awake early and fallen back to sleep. I remember a dream of you but I could not return to it when I had awaken the first time. I tossed and turned and then tried to find some peace to sleep and dream again but without any luck at all. You were nowhere to be found. My dream was simple, I was holding you close and you were sleeping – probably – I do not really remember. Most of my dreams are like that. Simple and calm scenes of being close, of you being close. That’s all I dare to dream, not even in my dreams do I allow myself too much imagination it seems. Somehow it boils down to the admiration and respect I feel for you being too great to allow anything but the most sweet and innocent of dreams or perhaps its only in my dreams I even dare to be really close to you as you probably are too good for me to even wish to be close to.
Not sure what is what and not sure I should be writing this because I tend to say too much in my texts without really saying anything. Perhaps there’s no more to say anyway. I don’t know. I don’t know what matters or what doesn’t. This is what’s on my mind as I’m writing and it will be the way will be. I’m not ashamed of feeling the way I do or to write it but I am ashamed of sounding pathetic and needy. And weak. I wish I was strong but I’ve never been and I don’t know how. I just know how to be the one I am. The one who loves you. The one who thinks he should shut up and should have shut up long ago but can’t seem to find the stop button.
For what its worth I keep writing, keep twisting and turning my words around trying to make sense of myself and my longing. My dream that is you. It’s not a big dream and not a bold dream. It’s just a dream that sometimes keeps me on my feet and sometimes drive me to my knees in despair. A dream. Sometimes whole worlds have changed because of people who dares to dream. Sometimes nothing ever changes at all because of a dream. Only time passes. There’s nothing I can do except this – writing.
Words are what I have to express myself. Sometimes they are enough and sometimes not but they’ll stand long after it’s all said and done. Long after the memory of why they were written has faded away. Now I know that may sound bold but be that as it may. This text has already gone long past what it was when I started. In a way that is what happens with all the writing I do here. So this seems like the place to end.