The doc was adamant, I am to take the meds he prescribed ’til the bitter end. The Flexeril makes me sleep. So much so, that it seems all I’ve done this week is sleep…
And dream’d…
Dream’d I had a new job. I drive a truck. I carry sand, or stones, cement blocks, whatever. I wake up at four in the A.M. I get home early while the wife serves some meat and I drink a couple of beers. I am content, the weight of the world is not on my shoulders. Occasionally, I help my fellow workers and truck brothers make the morning traffic jams worse. A small price to pay for a protest and yet everyone loses their minds.
Dream’d that I had, at my every beck and call, several skimpily clad Japanese geishas in cosplay costumes ranging from the ever popular sailor-suit to the more modern white-leather dominatrix style. Details of this dream are perhaps better kept in obscurity.
Dream’d that my leg was cut-off and still the pain kept me in bed. My house in ruins and my wife in tears. We drown in debt and the rising cost of the basic necessities of life. There is no hope. And no leadership. Secrets are kept from all.
Dream’d that my family was happy. I had a daughter that played with my son in parks unspoiled by contamination No thought of politics crossing my mind. Great leaders were here. And the promise of a better future.
Dream’d the movie I waited for so long made huge box-office sales and so sequels where being made. I wanted to believe the movie was worthy, and that I was not just another consumer.
Dream’d that I was piloting a huge mecha like Mazinger. But it was only the start of the 18th century.
Dream’d… of madness, killing, weather wars, despair. And there was no hope…
Dream’d brave dreams where I do the things I would do if I were not a coward.
Dream’d I could tell you all, and there were no secrets.
Dream’d I made a difference.
Dream’d I wrote, and it was good.
Dream’d that you read… and approved
