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into the brave new world - i hope i see you on the other side of this changing world...
Last night, near morning, I think, I dreamed - quite vividly - of the desert.
I was driving into it, and it was on both sides, but I could still see the not-desert behind me. Then the not-desert disappeared and the road was gone and the details of the dream blurred. Soon I couldn't see the landscape at all - couldn't see anything - but it didn't matter, because I knew I was happy, I knew I was where I wanted to be.
Which is not, necessarily, the desert. The desert is a representation, symbolic. I have dreamed of the desert before, in other times like this. I dreamed, a few weeks ago, that I was standing in a park near my home, leaning against a large rock. Beyond all the trees and green-fuzzed northernness, I could see a mountain. The bare kind. The desert kind. Until I looked away and looked back, and saw that it had disappeared into the clouds.
I think I am trying to tell myself something.
I think soon I might be ready to listen.
I was driving into it, and it was on both sides, but I could still see the not-desert behind me. Then the not-desert disappeared and the road was gone and the details of the dream blurred. Soon I couldn't see the landscape at all - couldn't see anything - but it didn't matter, because I knew I was happy, I knew I was where I wanted to be.
Which is not, necessarily, the desert. The desert is a representation, symbolic. I have dreamed of the desert before, in other times like this. I dreamed, a few weeks ago, that I was standing in a park near my home, leaning against a large rock. Beyond all the trees and green-fuzzed northernness, I could see a mountain. The bare kind. The desert kind. Until I looked away and looked back, and saw that it had disappeared into the clouds.
I think I am trying to tell myself something.
I think soon I might be ready to listen.