Imagine, if you will, that you have been granted the ability to dream, nay, to fantasise about two possible outcomes for your life.
One in a far away land filled with entanglements and journeys daring and heart warming to fill ten thousand life times. The other, close by, built by the specs of sand that cover any given beach. Sand that could be witness the birth of a shared look, gazing like a reflection yet unwilling, yet irresistible to condense in one second the same life times as before, but with the intensity that gods only knew when the light was born eons ago.
I tell you dear friends, this July has been a friend. Fantasies have been emerging from unsuspecting corners. But like " the baseless fabric of this vision" they leave me with the scarce memory of "what dreams may come".
For now, I sum the friendship beyond the oceans to rise my soul to heights of new comforts. I am pleased.
I do not count much more on these fantasies, but I am still thankful for the opportunity to dream. "To reach the skies" and believe that fantasies may fuel actions to shape realities. I am now content with the little visions this month unfolded.
The requiem for these fantasies is most certain, but the soothing memory will linger on, and most likely keep me going searching for welcoming strangers that appear by form or innuendo.
So as I am about to start a new week of image weaving I take the inspiration of these past days close to heart and hope that all that I do can fill others with the same contentment as "these spirits who apeared" confide in me (with words or with glances).
I am yet, a better person now. What more can I aspire to be...
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