Sunday, May 11, 2014

The Real Thing

Woke up to the certain feeling that I'd already had exactly these dreams, and very likely in this order. The schoolyard with the flowers - first hovering above and slowly descending, then into the building. The house with the many rooms for different emotions. Then outside, in the country, at night. The only difference, as much as I can tell, was that now the details were clearer.
Basically it was about life and death; sexuality and murder; lust and fear. Even though I was surprised about some very shocking scenes I couldn't recall from before. A child sleeping peacefully on a couch, or so it seemed. Face covered with a hat or a veil. Then as we leave the room, the sudden and terrible realization that you faced death. An old lost woman lured into the woods by a creature dressed much like her wearing a funny mask that resembles a grinning skull from a Mexican carnival.
No films, no books, no songs can ever be as strong and expressive as dreams.