Wednesday, November 1, 2006

To dreams, the future.

In my dream I thought I was being led to my death. Cursing and spitting and kicking the dirt I tried to release my arms from the grip of those who dragged me along the desert floor. In front of us, loomed Ayers Rock. As good a place to die as any, I thought. Surrounding me, leading me, were ten maybe fifteen tribal elders, their faces painted ghostly white and blood red. They remained silent as I became my Demon, screaming in an unknown tongue. I thought I heard the wind whispering, trying to sooth me, to calm me.

When we reached the rock, it all went dark.

I was in Hell.

Hell was an endless expanse of sand. I walked on, passing people I knew, who had given up and lay baking on millions of tiny diamonds. I tried to communicate but all that passed my lips was the sound of the wind.

Hell was a beach. Where the water should have been I saw instead, an ocean of skyscapers. Metal and glass reflecting the burning sun and lined up like teeth, like fangs. Reaching skyward toward the tongue of cloud which lazed in the sky and obscured Heaven from view. A man walked up to me and grabbing my arm, set skin afire, branding his mark upon me. You only get to choose one, he said, and you can never come back. Somehow I knew he wanted me to choose a building. So I chose, and walked toward the shortest one with the open windows.

Inside the door woman greeted me, examining the still sizzling brand on my arm. She smiled a smile of golden teeth. In her arms was a shiny black snake, wet and coiled seductively around her. Standing beside her was a dream within a dream, a friend I wished to protect. But as I moved toward her, everything collapsed, everything went blank.

The last thing I heard before the dream ended was, you did not die on the rock. You were cured.


I wake up in paradise. I wake up smiling on a misty grey morning to the sound of whistling in my kitchen. Infected by the notes I rise and walk outside to hold my arms outstretched and embrace the universe. Above me, at the edge of the deck, the water runs off the roof and forms curtains of rain. Acting the part, I step through, onto the grass and soak in the applause. The pit-pit-patter-clap of the rain on tin. Beyond my backyard I can hear what once was a freeway, now a river. The cars morphed to salmon in their never ending journey upstream. I grin a grin that says, On this day, reality is ours to create.


I say to myself, I probably speak to you too much. Is it right for what we want to achieve? Need to achieve? I don't know, I know you are my best friend and...


And today I feel right. Today I know I made the right decision. I am happy, though there is sadness. I am happy to have chosen the path I have, and happy to have made it to where I am. I did it, I did it because I love you. And I am going to keep on loving you...

'cause it's the only thing you wanna do?

I raise an eyebrow at myself. Smart arse.


I do not think myself unique in the way I appreciate the life that wraps around me when I sit in my garden. But alone in it this morning, I hear it speaking to me. So I listen. And over the fence old trees give unselfishly, tall and proud and wiser than I. And at my feet, the grass is green, on THIS side. So, still smiling, I nod sagely in agreement with the wisdom of nature. Yes, everything in this garden is growing. And I mean EVERYTHING.

A drop of melancholy falls upon me, as I dream a dream of sharing this moment. But it just joins the rain, rolls down my back and does nothing to dampen the determination within.

Two birds fly overhead, seeking shelter.

The cat rubs against my leg and sighs.

The wind dies, and all that is left is the soft kiss of the rain.


  1. Well, I had an epiphany last night Mr B, it made me cry , tears of both joy and sadness. Joy from the amount of love I have for my friends, boundless love, one friend in particular. The sadness, that one friend is moving on, and I have never loved or missed one so much. He is happy where he is going, and I can't think of anything that would make me feel better than that.

    Reading your post just now bought it all back to me (hell, it's like you were there). Stay cool matty b.

  2. Yeah. No jumping the shark for you, boyo.

  3. What shark? Why can't I jump it?