The Dreamers: Repost From www.upsaid.com/futurerem

Repost from www.upsaid.com/futurerem

"The Dreamers"
- Palomba (KING)
Last night I think I dreamt someone else's dream. It had to be. I've never had a dream that beautiful. Didn't seem natural to me.

There was a party, but it wasn't a regular party, it was in a giant gymnasium. I know what you're thinking, where's the beautiful part come in? Let me explain.

So we're in this giant gymnasium, a bunch of people I don't know and I. Something is wrong, but I don't know what. I feel in the dream like I feel in life, generally miserable but unflappingly optimisitic. Odd.

So I had wandered off towards the side of the gym, bored and alone when the wall disappeared and the floor simply dropped off into infinite space. So I sat down there staring off into the infinite and wondering what was going on behind me when I heard this noise. I turned to look, but it was only the party. When I turned back to the infinite space there was a woman there, a girl really, wearing a black dress. My age if not a few years younger, but she wasn't a normal girl. She was an angel. I knew this in the way you know things in dreams, you're not told, or even shown necessarily, you just know by instinct.

Now look, we've talked about my dreams before, about my lack of fantasy but my flare for the fantastic. This girl, this angel, touched me on the face. Her fingers were soft and warm. She leaned in tight against me and whispered in my ear, "Don't cry." But I wasn't crying and I wasn't planning on it, so I told her, "I wasn't." And she just held my head in both her hands and grinned down at me and I remember thinking that I felt awfully awake, and if it wasn't for the fact that I knew this to be a dream I might be deceived into thinking it was reality. Except that in reality I often feel dead, and in this dream I was alive and warm and comforted...and it was all because of this angel, this fantastic angel. And so the angel held me and I didn't cry, although at that point I couldn't have imagined a reason for ever crying. And last night, in that angels arms, the dream me fell asleep feeling warm and happy. Sometime later the real me awoke...still feeling warm and happy.

I had someone once tell me that they loved my fantasies. I didn't understand, until they explained they were talking about a character in one of my stories. They were talking about these little fantasy type bits I dropped into the story, the character's fantasy. I don't think they understood the whole story was a fantasy itself, my fantasy. I don't think I understood that till just now. You may have read that story: ( A Story: 5-25-04 )

People grow, mature, revert, become, live, blossom, die, wither. People one day are not the same people they were the day before, nor are they the same minute to minute. Where am I? Who are you?