A few drops of Insanity

Your voice in the dream was so real...felt like the first drops of rain on a barren, thirsty plateau. I closed my eyes and let myself be overwhelmed by the pleasure it brought. Like warm blood gushing out of slit wrists...letting the frustration, agony, resentment and anxiety finally find a tunnel to escape. How much I wanted to love you and tell you I did so...how much I wanted to push all the obstacles aside and hold your hand...tell you that nothing was worth living in the denial that we were not meant to be with each other. But I stopped...I didn't let the words flow out, my patience was being tested again and I could not give in.

I knew then what you needed and I know now what you need. But it will take more time for the sun to rise on your side of the world. Maybe it will take more time for the sun to set on mine. But till either happen, the dream will live on in its perpetual nature. Tit bits of memories, voices, desire, adoration, fascination, expectation and fantasy, all brewed together to savor a true imitation of the "Promised Land."

The musings of my subconscious...heaving at the strings of my heart...till it bleeds of sweet torment...till nothing can be heard but the beating of a fading life. Maybe this Utopia is just optimism sitting arrogantly on the peak of insanity...but then dreamers have never been perceived as sane people and they never will be...

"I don't advocate insanity, but its always worked for me!"