I'm starting to dream again. At least I'm remembering them again. These are consistent these dreams.
I'm in a cold place,...so cold.
It's sometimes grey sometimes white or silver. I'm always wrapped. Cocooned. I see my self in 3rd person. Grey silver wrapped.
I'm not afraid. I'm not anything. Just there again, and again.
A holding place?
A place before something else?
My most recent dream was of the buildings of the neighborhood where I grew up. They were derelict. The windows broken. The walls bleached grey by one hundred years of sun light.
ReplyDeleteFor now all that remains a dream.
It was a dream prompted by the awairness of time.
Padraig