I am walking, I am sky walking. There are beautiful colours around me, pink mostly. Sometimes the softness in the atmosphere changes into wetness which after inhaling makes me happy and light. I am also holding an umbrella, it is black in colour. I open it and I am dragged backwards by the musical wind. I am laughing and loving the moment. With my flying umbrella, I spin and float here and there like a leaf. I always wanted to be a leaf, I am serene.
I read somewhere that ‘definition destroys’ and I think I believe in it. This is this and that is that has never worked for me, only feelings have. Defining simplifies things, yes it does, makes things understandable; then it also makes things complex and difficult to such an extent that gives rise to questions like why is there inequality everywhere and then people exclaim to a friend in a conversation ‘children still die in our country because of hunger’, adding later their concern about their Pussy who didn't drink milk that morning. To define is to confine; actually I don’t know but they rhyme perfectly. I just hate it, this definition thing, the most when dreams are analysed so as to reach a definition. Please, let’s keep dreams as a mystery for the mystery on our smiling face in the sleeping state continues.