After closing your eyes, a new dimension opens
its doors to you like the entry of a whole new world where the only one capable
of feeling a thing is you yourself. These other ones around you do as you want
and please. Everything that surrounds you becomes as you wish and not as you
want. That is why most people would rather sleep than go out, because their
wishes are heart-needed, but their wants, on the other hand, are selfish and
urgent.
After
closing your eyes, your beats and guts call off every fact that open-eyed life
provides you with, but at the very end, in a dream anything gets to be as hard
and painful as in real life.
Living
through dreams is actually the best way corny people live and hope when their
loved ones live far from them. When that person they love like they had not
before is out of sight, there is nothing like grabbing the pillow and kissing
it goodnight pretending to cuddle and ear-whisper him or her all your love, so
you would rather close your eyes and innocently smile while your heart rushes
frenetically.
Then,
when you have already said all you keep in your inside to your very witness,
you inevitably fall asleep and undeniably in love. That is the process that
draws us the path to Utopia, that place in our heads that introduces us an
extreme amount of perfections; a place where the person you love, or at least
long to love, stays and waits for you.
Better
Utopia than actual distance and other obstacles.
Besides,
the pillow would not be the only tear-wet handkerchief since music blades our
skin layers in search of our weakest nerves. And you know it happens when
ironically going on a ride day-light dreaming that reminder song plays on to
your ears. Even when there is no music at all and yet the song rings on you.
And that song, having you closed-eyed, recreates Utopia in you again.
And
then perfection.
And
then smile.
And
then the hardest moments for rookies like us: to determine whether what we feel
is love. Or obsession. Or growing love. Or improved attraction. At this point
your heart and brain struggle, fight, and the only agreement they get into is
not further than a name, a face. So you close your eyes and smile like you are
doing now because you feel both your heart pounding and your brain
accelerating. You close your eyes and breathe as deep as you can and think of
the song, and look to him or her, because you also know there is someone out
there who looks to you as well.
After
opening your eyes, you realize the only path in front of you is reality and
somewhat pain. The pain of not being neither where you belong to nor who with.
All you try doing is to hope and to wait for the night time or peacefulness in
order to be, or at least feel happy. Then duties and life tell to wake up and
stay up so you are able to think. No, to believe. No, to live. Thus, you wonder
what life is if actual views, touch or belonging do not provide you with sensefulness just as the unconsciousness
of dreaming. You wonder and wonder until you realize all you do is freeze
wander. You move, but you see no goals. But when you dream, everything you ask
for is there, so close, so real.
After
opening your eyes, your heart keeps moving, but unwilling; your brain
accelerates, but motionless.
After
opening your eyes, what really takes you on the hand is faith, the faith of
making your dreams come true, of smelling the similarity of Utopia, of kissing
the tenderness of your loved one’s lips, of hugging the softness of that distanced-person’s
body, of moving forwards and meeting, of blinging your smile with an
emotion-filled tear, and run by his or her hand through the most beautiful
parks and bridges and laying on the most comfortable beds.
After
opening your eyes, there is that sensation that drops you down to earth and
tells you that what you just felt was nothing, but illusion, so the one in your
dreams, perhaps your latest late relative, perhaps your unreachable fantasy,
perhaps someone not interested in feeling what you do, that same person
vanishes with the happiness of your soul.
Dreaming
can be so realistic, so similar to life, that there are some of you, not me,
not us, that are really afraid of losing consciousness and falling asleep. However, there are those like you, like me,
like us, that fight day and night lights so hard to not wake up. Not dreaming,
on the contrary, makes you doubt. You hesitate about the other’s way of
thinking. You ask the world how much the person in your dreams, dreams with
you. You ask several times how strong the feelings of that person are.
But
sleeping does not worry you that much.
You
close your eyes to succeed, to get closer to that body and cuddle back-forth
together, to kiss the back of his or her neck and whisper that no longer will
you ever miss a time to say “I love you”.
That
is why there is not more life in dreaming than being awake, but there is by far
less pain and hurt. That is why dreaming through dreams makes people like me
easily love and naively expect with a non-apparently future to come. Even
though it never comes, I will always
have the one alternative of turning to bed, lying down, and grabbing my pillow,
kissing it goodnight, and telling it how fast my feelings grow, and
consequently realizing how much more I live when thinking than wondering
around.
Millán, Randold.
A los 19 días del mes de septiembre. 2013.
