How do we translate a dream?

Do you know those epic dreams we have at some point in our lives? Not “dreams” as in “goals”, but dreams in our sleep? Those dreams that seem to hold a magic quality, that may lie dormant for years until we remember them and they then inject us with an alien energy that transcends our small routines?… Well, regardless… Today I suddenly and vividly recalled one of those dreams I´d forgotten about for a while, God knows when I dreamt it.

The task at hand is, of course, an impossibility from its very onset. Either we let these dreams float freely in our own minds until they eventually withdraw back unto oblivion… or we attempt to capture their magic into words, facing the danger of failing miserably in our attempt to express their magnitude. Or even worse, facing the danger of holding them hostage in a frozen portrait which is forever so distant from their full splendour.

And yet… what the hell. Here is a disjointed poem, a bad poem, a failed attempt to capture what I cannot quite put into words. Pardon the self-indulgence, and move on by all means if that is your wish!

The Fluorescent Night

Crystal Blue bathes this mountainscape of quietude,

An endless maze that somehow knows the way, so full of fascination, so full of poise and quasi-certainty.

The individual descends the luscious paths, silently rejoicing as he crosses dark, deserted valleys, heart breathing benevolence

No warts, no fucking needs, just pure discovery

The inner call for adventure has found its home.

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