Dream Diary 1


DREAM DIARY

As my eyes closed, reluctant to admit to the surrounding darkness, they melted into the crevices of my mind, resting assured in the comfort of imagination- simmering in the pleasure of infinite possibility.

I opened my eyes to the view of a dank street-side liquor store. The electric sign perched atop the building was flickering with a pitiful, pale white. This place was a wasteland. People walked passed me as if they were fugitives, and doors remained lock and key. I approached this liquor store with some feeling of purpose. As I walked in, the first thing that came to sight were the half-naked shelves of products. It gave off a scene of a ransacked rat hole, used for protection against some zombie invasion. The people’s faces were dark and shadowy, making me feel somewhat uncomfortable. Nobody spoke, instead they just purchased what they wanted, and left in a most robotic fashion. The cashier had a reflective red vest to represent his authority as a delinquent who was earning minimum wage. I confronted him and handed him five dollars. My reason for giving him my money remains unknown, but I go along with it as I browse the empty shop. After looking through empty bottles and unwrapped wrappers, I eventually squandered back to the clerk. Apparently he had no recollection of my handing him any money and proceeded to argue with me about it. After a minute of two men arguing over nonsense, a small woman broke it up. She was the manager of this store. This woman was dressed in rags. It was strange because she had one of those incredibly familiar faces. She agreed to let the five dollars I gave serve as payment for whatever purchase I make. I walked out towards a broken soda machine to see if I could fill up the cracked plastic cup they handed me.  At that point the manager was walking past me with bits of powdered sugar spotted along her lips from having just eaten a doughnut. For some reason, this was the first time I actually caught a glimpse of her face, which was stunningly beautiful. Contrary to the rags she was wearing, her blue eyes stuck out like diamonds in a coal mine. She had pale skin and dirt dark hair. The skin, in contrast to her hair and clothes, appeared to me as an angel covered in rust. She had a thin but plump figure, seemingly making her younger than she was. She had a misty look to her, like she was in her own little world, minding her own business. She seemed empty - lacking in her own life. Without hesitation I walked up to her, pulled her around to face me, and gave her a long sincere kiss. I could taste the powdered sugar that she had not yet been able to wipe off her mouth. It happened very quickly. I proceeded to walk immediately out of the store, befuddled by my bold action. She called out something unintelligible as I pressed on into the night. On my way out I passed a woman who I had adored for a long time, which caught me off guard. How did she end up here of all places? She was someone I had been wanting to speak to for so long, and yet she walked right past me, giving me a slight nod, and entering the liquor store. It was like we were close friends, but it was crooked and awkward. After having left that area, I happened to wander off into my thoughts without really noticing the surroundings. The city was very dark at night, but dimly lit with daydream-yellow streetlamps. The sidewalks were beautiful, coated with cobblestone and a sweet scent. Many people were scattered about, some going out to parties and concerts, while others were frozen in drunken stupors, forgetting the world around them. Many of these people faded behind me as I walked on. I was still wondering what that girl was trying to say to me, after I left that liquor store. I still had her image in my head. It was all so confusing. I felt such a strong connection with her, even though I had known her for only a few minutes, and from what seemed like a very plain and unromantic scene of common people. Yet as I left that place, and passed upon the face of a woman I knew for so long, whom I strongly adored, I felt only a cold and rustic shell, wilted like leaves in the fall, and somewhat crisp from overexposure to the Sun. She was distant to me, disconnected. I had never kissed her - no. But I had always imagined it to be an incredible experience. Sadly, at this point, I can only say that the kiss I shared with the girl at the liquor store was beyond anything I could imagine. I am still not sure what rose up inside of me, what exploded and burst into a thousand rainbows and moonlit nights, to allow me to make such a gesture. It struck me, with utmost tectonic proportion, that I had no choice but to kiss her and fulfill some hidden quest within my mind. When I grabbed her arm, I felt as if she was the only thing holding me up as I fell into some liquid that was brutally hot and intensely satisfying. Once I pressed my lips against hers, smearing some of that sweet and smooth powdered sugar, the stained glass windows of the world shattered, and those who remained in the pews were coated in the shower of crystals. Everything was blank and white and black and vivid. Nothing was there. All that was left after the destruction and havoc was a silent moment between me and this girl, as our lips were sewn together, and sealed for an eternity. All but touch died from among my senses, and all that remained was that slight pressure as the blood pressed aside from our young mouths. It was so silent, and so perfect. I felt alive, and well. I felt that I could perhaps deign myself a man of more dimensions than human. The jolt of pain that I felt, the sensation of a bee sting, was only our parting lips. I didn’t know what to say, and she was none the better. I walked away, possibly because I could not admit to the invincibility that was gifted to me - possibly because I could not handle the truth of that moment, that remote and fresh taste of a doughnut. She called out to me, but what is it she wanted to say? Did we share this indeterminate level of insanity?  Perhaps we are the only two of our kind- invisible to the world, and adamant in our own little bubbles. She and I are one and alike. She and I must share some sort of immaculate connection that causes the sun to set, and tide to rise. I will never know what that is. I will never understand that because understanding WHY I felt this sensation has nothing to do with it. Who is it that felt this sensation with us? 

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