I had this weird dream last night. I know a lot of my posts, poems, and days start out exactly this way but this time a true inspiration stuck. Stuck, not struck. Inspiration strikes my mind all the time but rarely does it stick until morning. It struck a bit like bipolar lightning alternating between hellish mania and tranquil sadness I have dreams like these…
I am forever walking around a familiar but strange school. One with lockers from high school and an amalgamation of my elementary school playground equipment and the torn down community water slide.
Sometimes I see people I have met throughout life appear in one place together as they never have before. I keep in touch with my thirteen year old best friend. I wanted to emulate her because she was daring, beautiful, and free.
I learned much later that she was really more like me. Shy, insecure and trapped.
I took the news like the adult I was. I assumed the world was to blame and went on to school, work, writing. My busy life. Now that I look back I feel more far away from her than ever, even when we’re sitting next to each other on a couch.
Every now and again I have these dreams where she and I can re-live anything, anything we have done, seen or imagined from anytime in our lives. Most of the dream is nonsense. I am a very erratic dreamer. They tend to blend and mash. My dreams are hardly the container of one thought, memory, person or event.
When I do see her, or sometimes when I sense she is behind me as I’m talking, or hiding somewhere during a game of hide and seek, or meeting me at a carnival that sprang up in my backyard… I feel the excitement of having that one person you’re always looking around the corner for.
When I wake I feel disturbed. Disturbed that a fantasy can make me so happy.
So sad, leaving her alone until we meet on a crumbling staircase or travel to France to visit places she snapped pictures of on a school trip… but maybe it is better this way. My friend, I don’t hate her or blame her. I don’t even wish I didn’t know her anymore. I’m just happy we still exist as I once saw us, and believed we always would remain, best friends forever.
I have to admit she has been quite an inspiration to me over the years. Even if I merely perceived these things in her I still strove to attain her favor. I liked what she liked, but she seemed to change her mind constantly and tease me about the things she found childish. I could never stop being her friend. I hope I never lose her, she always has a way of remembering things I forgot about a long time ago, especially, it seems, the embarrassing memories.
In these dreams the scenery reflects my ever-changing mood. People I meet are there for a reason. I’m not ready to stop dreaming even if it holds me back. I won’t stop even when it hurts after I wake up.
There’s another world in there, maybe endless ones. Someday I will wake in the middle of some divine poem like Samuel Taylor Coleridge, write part of it down forgetting the end (probably under the influence of drugs) and proclaim, “I saw her in a dream!”