Laments of a Dreamer

Being a dreamer is very inconvenient. Especially when the light switch is across the room, the weather cold and the time is 1:35 in the night. Poems come whispering to you at the unearthliest hours. Sometimes humming and buzzing like an irritating mosquito, trying to get a place to sleep, in the hollow of your ear. And you can't just slap it away and go to sleep.

Poetic paranoia is another such disease that gets in the way of living. When I can't just let the lines go and let them come to me again at a later date. That just isn't possible. I have to get up, groaning, repeating the lines to myself and scatter around stuff on my already very messy study table and rummage for a piece of paper somewhere. And then look for a pen that works.

And when you're so habitual of the sound of the keyboard, thank god for the blessed old fashioned paper. And specially when you have switched on and off your laptop at least a dozen times in the day already.

You get tired. You want to go to sleep. But your mind doesn't stop. It doesn't stop making plans that will never be implemented. And dreams that will never be realised. Not even in the dream's dreams. It fantasizes with the current favourite sappiest song there is with your current favourite person, in a ridiculously fantastical scenario.

It thinks up a movie-like storyline. Which will probably be forgotten, substituted by a more ridiculously thought-out plan that will again be fantastically substituted. It's a vicious, vicious cycle.

It keeps you away from the dreadful reality but brings it back to you transforming it like an ugly-beast-to-handsome-prince story or a rags-to-riches one. Subsequently you get disappointed and tired, and give up just to start dreaming in another five minutes.

But just on rare occasions, some incidents take you to another part of your dream which is in actuality real, and it's better than you can fantasize or dream of. It's the moments like these that you live for. And hope that you can continue to live for them.

Dreams come and they go. And they come again..

Sometimes you just want to shout at it to STOP but you don't. Because it's just the way it is. That's who you are.