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I had a dream that I died. Afterwards, everyone I had ever known or met came into my room, one by one, and started writing all over my walls. I think that would be a beautiful way to be remembered.

Dreams are strange things. One who doesn’t dream often have personality disorders, or that’s what the internet says. I don’t dream, not lately anyway. Often I’ve had dreams confuse with reality, my imagination on overdrive. I was on a stage, a soft blue light shone upon it, casting it in a cool shade of underwater color for the scene. One side was my best friend, but no, it was Ariel, the mermaid princess singing A Part Of Your World with all her heart, as if seeing the Prince for the first and last time. Upon my hands were my trusting bow and below my chin was a sea-green violin. It was perfect, it’s structure, it’s weight, design, length, complex scales painted by hand upon it’s shell. The spotlight shine upon my friend but I could still see in the cool blue light the algae texture of my dress, the soft colors of green and grey that camouflage with the scene, except that when I moved, light flashed and danced, making a kaleidoscope, making the dark audience cheer and catcall. The song was familiar and my body moved with it, playing the violin with practiced strokes a melody to complement the voice but so unique that it stands out. The music was loud but oh so pleasant in my ears, a lullaby for a crooning baby. I knew my place and shined like I belonged there. This is my soul that wishes it, no power, no trophy, no fame. Just acceptance.

I always have the weirdest dreams, so when I found this group, I thought, ”Great! A place where I can actually have a willing audience!” Needless to say, I can’t remember a single dream since!

The space between you and me are where dreams come true.

Recurring dreams become daily nightmares.

Sorry I had to cut you away, Lucy- maybe some other time. When he’s ready, when I’m ready- when you’re ready.