Insomnia is a lovely drug

Last night I had an uncanny dream. I have met a lot of people who say they do not remember their dreams, some say they alter their dreams; some claim to run it as desired and some can’t help seeing nightmares all the time.  I do not belong to one or maybe typical kind. I see them, I remember them and I discuss them. My dream, habitually are interesting. They are sometimes pretty idiosyncrasies and sometimes peripheral in the mind. They sometimes disturb my draining trudge by stretched sleep patterns; they scrunch in my mind like the empty packs of wafers, they mistreat my mind and sometimes make me talk spiritedly.

The dream washes you like those huge sea waves. The tidal waves sore high, make noise in your mind and intersperse salt. When you rouse from the splash, you taste the saline water and think I am ideal, which is nothing but the euphemistic tag for fools. 

My dream was about a woman whose face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides. She had big earlobes which gently compressed her head like thigh master. She was so lonely in the vale profound like the solitary reaper that she dreaded singing for she could just hear her own voice. So she didn’t sing or reap in the sow-field. She rather sat in melancholy stripping her of tirelessness. She wished someone to come rescue her from the valley of wretchedness. Her thoughts tumbled in her head breaking customary alliances. She heard an unearthly howl from the attic of her heart. Lost in the cobwebs of reflection she pictured a scene with surreal quality because she could see an air balloon rising and falling in the air. Insignia like ice blew in her manifestation and she wished the balloon to come closer!

The balloon flew like skin of loose silk blown against a wall. The hot-air balloon drifted slowly over a bottomless chasm and suddenly came floating towards her. She could not reach out to holding the rope. Despair rose on her when the balloon started deflating. She felt despair murmuring in her ear “not this time, there is any escape”. There is nothing she could do to break this impasse. The anticipated journey to uncharted territories had been nip in the bud. She saw the balloon sinking into the abyss.