#40 Dream

I had that dream again. 

For a while, every night running in dreams -looking for someone or escaping from something- I’ve get through this empty road.

The same narrow street, trapped by white walls in both sides, going a long way down to an unknown city, looking somewhat familiar in the fog. Small wooden doors on one side of the street, car parking metal doors in the other side. Closed, not locked. 

The first time I entered one of the metal doors in the right. It was a silent night, but I found lights, music an lots of children building up an old-fashioned car at the end of a long corridor. They wanted me in with them though I tried to go back to the road. All of sudden the corridor had become a labirinth. The street itself was a labirinth but I couldn’t see it from outside. I had a clear view of it from the inside. I ran. Too slow. The street had me. I don’t know if waking up was mi only exit.

The second time I went into a red wooden door in the left. In a long table a lot of people were talking and drinking. I sat in front of a beautiful girl who tried to tell me something important (was it about the road?) but the place was too loud I didn’t hear her and I felt suddenly unconfortable. I wanted to go out again, and the door was opened and nigh, but I loved the girl and couldn’t stop watching her eyes. I stand and kissed her, she get blush and smiled, and the lights gone. The road dissapeared and I waited there, in the darkness of the black holes that spawn between dreams.

The third time I just walk down the road with some faceless friend by my side. That time nothing happened, because the road was sleeping, or because I was.

Today I had that dream again.

I was running, escaping, finding. I reached the street from an alley and stopped and gazed it. There it was once more, trapping me in my subcounscious fears with his quietly holiness. No sounds, no menaces, just its white walls and coloured wooden doors yelling at me that everything was fine, but I know it wasn’t. I know it’s not. Its purity and order are false, its promises are ghostly shadows that come and go, letting me to get what I desire for a while in the misty world of dreams. I don’t want that. The street may be the part of my mind where hides everything I couldn’t had or have and somehow I’ve find it… I just need to open a door to get what I lost, to embrace it, to kiss it, to start hoping I will never wake up finally trapped in the labirinth. 

But I don’t want to see what I hide.

There’s madness in the mind of men.


~ por Verzo en julio 29, 2008.


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