I'm not there trailer

dream diary. no2

This is a dream I had last night.
I have a feeling I remember more than this. When I was lying between sleep and awake there was so much more, but its gone now. Maybe it will come back to me when I least expect it. That happens.

I dive, its not too deep. Under the water, a yellow round object. I reach for it yet avoid it at the same time . I gasp for air so I stand up, the waters surface comes up to my waist. Standing there, I look around. Its nighttime, the sky is beautiful, cloudy and purple. A group of people mine hunting. We are all standing and diving in a straight line. The straight line indicates the point we cannot cross.

The mines are peculiar. Some of them let you get near them before going off. Others blow up, as if they smelled you intent from afar. Some explode in your hands and others cant seem to decide which range is theirs.
Come to think of it, they are like people.

A fearless man says he's found a way. He volunteers to teach the rest of us. Now we stand in line at the beach watching him as he walks along the line of mines, gently collecting each and everyone of them and placing them all together in his arms. He is smiling, but every step he takes makes us shiver with fear. No one is brave enough to help him.
We just stand in line and watch.

stop whispering, start shouting.

above your head,
noises,
voices,
shall I listen to this?
is this okay?
is this alright?
you have to be quiet if you want to keep your privacy
"tone your voice down or the neighbours might hear you"
I feel foolish now and irritatingly loud.
in the future we will be softer spoken people
successful
condensed.

in the end we 'll all go mute.

dream diary. no1

Usualy I look down while i walk. I dunno why that is, but this is how my dream starts. Or at least, this is when I start remembering.
I am walking down some stairs. I take a look at my dress..thats funny..its white. These steps seem familiar. Like the ones leading to a beach back home. These too lead to a beach, but not the same one. This one is empty. The sea seems cold, sad, bitter. The clouds above it say the same thing. It seems impossible to determine what time of day it is.

Walking along, I see there is a bed where the water washes . Its white aswell, like the fairytale ones I dreamed of having when I was a kid. A group of women is gathered there. They seem to barely notice me. I have come back from a stroll. I rejoin them. The waves climb the sand right under our feet and under the bed at which we are seated, and then they wash away, revealing all the wonders below.

There is a hole in the sand. And as the wave pulls itself back into the ocean, there is little time to pick the octopuses. We pull them out, one at a time, hold them up, and put them aside. The octopuses are burning up as we remove them from the water. There is little struggle. Then another wave comes and we do the same.

Over and over again.

another stupid poem

tonight the world spins in different direction
and a shiny serpant learns to fly

we were never meant to be together
but the universe is filled with flaws
and we 're wise enough to make it right