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My Dream Of You

My Dream Of You

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Published by: Ahmed Nader Al-Gretly on Jan 27, 2011
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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01/27/2011

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My Dream Of YouBy Ahmed Nader 
 
A few nights ago I had a dream about you; you were standing in front of your  bedroom mirror, staring at your reflection. It looked like you were trying to pick outevery fault in your body; it looked like you were judging the figure that stared back atyou.³Too much dark under my eyes,´ you whispered ³too much fat, love handles, and belly. My skin is too pale, me skin is too dark.´You kept saying these things to yourself, things I did not even understand, youwere so focused judging yourself that you never noticed I was standing right behind you.I took a few steps and put my hands delicately on your shoulders.³You are a perfect being; you are a perfect soul, so stop all this weeping andswallow your pride.´I took your hand and led you out of the room, and then I did something verystrange. It seems so vague to me now, but every time I think about it I feel like it reallyhappened, like a distant memory. It seems so real to me that is sometimes scares me. I satdown on a black leather couch ±you next to me and then I grinded a stack of books,sniffed the powder and fell once more down the rabbit hole. Twisting and turning, the socalled real world fading around me, I was lost in my own mind and as we know, the mindis a funny thing. Don¶t worry my love, you were with me all the way and I was in control,we were in control, creating our own little world that was a part of us, our souls projecting everything inside us, we were but one.Our flight landed, our destination reached«the dream world. We were back oncemore in the land of lights and sounds, the land of love, peace and freedom. We stood
 
outside a club, me in my black tux, bow tie and black hat tilted to the front covering myeyes, and you with your evening gown that highlighted your body in an elegant manner.The brisk wind rolled around us making your dress flutter, a young girl in rags stopped inour way, she spoke to herself ±or to us I do not know. She spoke in a low voice, her words frozen by the weather.³Last night I had a dream of a man dressed in a long black coat.´ She whispered³He spoke of a prophecy; he told me that the world will go out with a whisper not a bang,like a restless flame of a candle, fading away into nothing with only a thin line of smokeleft to prove its mere existence. He took my hand and led me to the land of lost souls, themadness, the madness. Last night I had a dream of a man dressed in a long black coat. Heshowed me an image of an old woman; her head slouched down between her knees, tearsfalling down her face. He showed me images of men tearing each other apart, womenwith their hearts tucked inside their designer bags. I saw a greedy nation, a lostgeneration, a generation lost in space or just up in smoke. I walked through the streets of a once great nation, now engulfed by its own ego, by impurities and bymadness«madness. I saw a scattered nation, a divided generation; I fell to my knees andwept. Last night I had a dream of a man dressed in white, his eyes gleaming with grace.He took my hand and whispered in my ear, he spoke of the land of milk and honey. Ismiled. I saw people holding hands, I saw people making love not war, I saw mendropping books not bombs, I saw women dancing and children laughing. We sat together in a park under a tree, and when the night sky grew dark the old man in white smiled. Hetold me a story about a free nation, about a prudent generation, about a land withoutgreed and a land filled with wisdom. Last night I had a dream, but now I¶m up, reality is

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