No thought had been put into anything. No gloss or trim, no reflection. There it was… all of it, down on paper, even if it was in his minimalist form. Before bed, he had to go to the bathroom and get a drink, eyes still filling with tears for reasons he no longer even thought about, he had cried till his head hurt and he felt dizzy, and only then did he try and stop. He’s never cried like that before…
The dreams came;
People went through their routines, faceless and gaunt. In a huge city by the sea. In the distance were mountains, with rivers running down into the sea, clearly visable, somehow. The sun was setting/ Before it did, the mountains started to weep red tears instead of blue. The red rivers flowed down, clouds of billowing red below the surface, until all the water was red. The people carried on. Puppets or symbols in a unreal world that never was and never shall be.
He swam in the sea and it was warm, so he swam further out. He called to people to come and swim and they didn’t hear him. He couldn’t go back now, the sea turned to mud and he is stuck, being pulled down inside it, yelling and screaming, no one listens, no one hears. Before he is sucked under he takes one last breath and sees something… There is a silhouette of a person by the sea, with the sun hiding behind, holding a present. He guesses it’s for him, he reaches out, but its too late. Wake.
I spent over half an hour just thinking about that dream earlier. Not something you would probably expect me to share and you can take any meaning from it you wish.
Last night… it’s not something I want to live through ever again. A horrible empty feeling as some hard truths hit home, things I have thought I knew suddenly seeming to be turned into fact, and by the most natural (to some) of events. It felt like I was a city suddenly being scavenged by nuclear blasts
Get your philosophy hats on…
Life is entirely what you make it, true. There are no gods but the ones we choose to believe in, and they exist because we need them to. The same with lovers, we believe in them so they exist because we need them to. As priests love god, lovers love each other. You can see the common word emerging… love. Love, should it exist or not, is both wonderful and terrible.
The person in love sees nothing but love in their life. The problem is.. this is exactly what the person not in love sees. They see love everywhere, else. Some of my problems stem from this situation. A life without love you can (and many do) argue is a terrible thing. A realisation dawned on me yesterday that made things seem awfully devastating; I have not been in love for over 7 years.
True, I've had girlfriends, even long term partners, but never loved someone who loved me, or been loved by someone I would have wished for. That’s what being in love for me is all about. Theres a question though, a silly little *if*. What if, I just don’t feel love? What if a terrible event almost 7 years ago to the day has left me numb to it? My recent examinations of life in my spare thoughts and moments left me negative, without love’s influence. So things tend to look bleak, and yes, I still argue that there are no gods, aliens or even love because we cannot prove any of it.
Life is meaningless; death really is the brick wall at the end, but so what? Life is also a gift, to us that are allowed it. Hundreds of children die everyday, people are still being blown apart and gunned down in most corners of the world, even
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