Snowfall

I wrote this a bit ago for a magazine, although that thing never got finished so I'm putting it up here.

Dark outside and blinds shut I went to bed, not to sleep but to lie. Recently I've enjoyed just laying about with my eyes closed, doing nothing for hours on end just to get a glimpse of some dot or blur coming across my vision. It's so much more interesting than the boring full-fleshed all of what I see with my eyes open. I've seen that so many times, but this I'm only seeing now, it's new, novel. So, returning to my recent rut of meditation, I'm laying down, eyes closed, carefully not moving, carefully ignoring all the pain in my sides and carefully trying not to feel too much pain so that I'd be disturbed. Just to lie, in nothingness, all black, forever. To willfully sleep, for the chance of a dream. And I stay, in this state of pseudo-sleep, until this dream I was waiting for arises. The moon journeys and slight color comes, that shade of purple in symbols that mean nothing to me and that I can not even get a good picture of, but which I lied so long in anticipation for anyways.

I was walking in the mountains, walking for so long as the world seemed to shift around me. To change in ways I was too tired to notice anyways. For my tiredness to make me unconcerned with what was truly in front of me. I walked, it was what I ought to do, what I was told to do, what I needed to do. And eventually, I walked into the world faded into nothingness, and felt myself fall. Oscillating between conscious oblivion and tired stupor I eventually rose. Back where I had started, I drank some water and had the world go back to normal. Fade from its faded black to its tinted purple and finally to normality.

I see this purple again, it's omen of oblivion, of what lies behind the veil, and I grasp it! and it's gone. I groggily open my eyes and rise myself, move my arms and legs back into comfort, and feel a sense of accomplishment. I can still see slight dots, maybe purple, I can't tell, and after a few seconds of interest feel the full force of my sleepiness resting on my shoulders and decide to lie back in bed to rest. I fall quickly and dream.

I look around me, at all the repeated buildings and twisting stairs and mundane circular table I never owned and see that I'm dreaming, that I'm somewhere behind that veil which always persecutes my wake and now it's not there and I'm free. I'm free, and I'm tired. I look around, cereal boxes, magazines, endless corridors and possibilities. I walk around for a moment, and concerned with my fatigue decide to return to sleep.

I wake up. I go to where I normally go and brew what I normally brew, and slowly sipping what I don't taste think about the persistence of last nights excursions upon my vision and the new twitching in my side. The noise I'd find interesting pressed on my eyes where I can't make it out but I know I see it, always evading my stare but staying to taunt. Is it moving? With the strange jolting moving to my arm to muscles I never new I had I feel as if my body is trying to tell me something, communicate in some language I don't understand and it knows it only; I sit there; I sip.

Is it rain, falling? I have always loved the rain. Something I could never have. Not since then, no. I would sit, and I would look over again and again at what provoked a droplet but, no, the drought remained. I would seek it out, strike metallic dance in its name against my veins, give my flowing for its but no, drought, for years drought. Could anything grow anymore? I swear something could, that I had seen something in the cracks, something a faded green which grew despite and how could I not how could I accept defeat that nothing could and I saw it, I know it must have grown, I recall it in my memories and can practically feel it.

I lifted that veil, I guess. I don't even know what that means. But now that it's gone, that what I was searching for is here, that the fantasy I searched for is now reality it's a bit underwhelming. I guess I have it now. A permanent reminder. A memento of my search. I'm sure I'll find a new fantasy.