In the dream, I’m dancing.

I’m in a field of long tall grass – dried by the rage of summer’s sun. A cool breeze blows over the scene, rustling the trees – orange and red with the onset of autumn, creating an organic soundtrack that fills me with life.

And it doesn’t matter that the world is falling apart, because for this one moment, in this one dream, everything is coming together. This is my beginning.

I breathe in the scene, because maybe if I do it will linger upon waking. Perhaps if I could memorize every detail – from the way the dark soil of the ground gives under the pressure of my steps, to the distant sound of your laughter – if I could memorize it, perhaps I could return to this place. This place, where I am infinite.

Something pours inside my dream-self. An invigoration of feeling – beauty and love and peace. And the most overwhelming sense of perfect simplicity.

I’m dreaming in Technicolor feelings, feeling in fleeting seconds.

And in the dream, I’m dancing.