Saturday, July 7, 2007

Sandman Chronicles Part Un

I've never been good at remembering my dreams. Its one of my biggest frustrations. Actually, I do remember them but after thinking that I do, it's as good as gone. What can I say, life's a tease.

For some reason though, I remember three of them very well. They came to me around this time last year. And they're all connected somehow. Same characters, same eerie vibe, same underlying conflict.

This is going to be a series of nocturnal encounters (the title might have given it away). So without further ado, I share with you the First Night...

I was in the middle of what looked like a [American] football field. But there was no game. There were people standing around, talking to each other, with goblets in their hands, flimsy dresses on the girls, blown in every direction by the soft wind, and odd-looking armor for the boys, dressed to the nines instead of war. And then the scenery changes.

I'm in my house. My house before it was renovated in '97. Spacious front lawn, a garden that blossomed, tiki torches that lit the green night. I wasn't alone but I couldn't see the faces of the people who were with me. It felt like I knew them, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. All of a sudden, a couple of women (ones that looked like the girls from the football field soiree) float in from the other side of the wall. Amidst the others in the field they were ordinary. But just the two of them -- they were breathtakingly stunning. They were almost hostile, like I did something that pissed the hell out of them. For the first time in the dream, I looked lost. Until a man (with much less froufrou) appeared as if he was standing there forever but chose not to show himself until that very moment. He was beyond stunning. Masculine yet delicate. Much worthy of enamoring worship. His presence seemed to disrupt the rancor. And he looks at me with such tender eyes as if telling me to let go of my confusion. And then I wake.

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