My atomic life

At night I approach the light.

Touching, not touching - the point of light is elusive. I'm too cynical to talk seriously about the "inner truth" I've lost. But in my subconscious I am less cynical, and in the depths of the night I really seek and try to touch.

Last night I thought I'd caught the light for an elusive moment. There was still the point of feasibility. There really is what to look for, there is nothing to find. It's worth trying. The taste of the missed opportunity pinches the heart, stimulates the senses, does not give quiet.

Know the feeling that you've captured your dream? When it breaks into notes, you are too vague to accept the bad decree. And out of sleep you still allow yourself to enjoy the illusion that surrounds consciousness.

I must have grown up, and my dreams come more and more from the depths of consciousness, from the core of my personality that is trying to break out. Still imprisoned.

Maybe it was a dream in a shattered dream. All I dreamed of was talking. And in the desert I looked for something I needed. What could be missing in the desert? I must have been looking for water. Look for water in the desert, this image is too worn out. Maybe I was just thirsty? Perhaps it was an inverted parable, I was thirsty, and instead of me realizing it literally, my body tried to explain it to consciousness through a complex parable of searching for the lost inner truth. Because only through a twisted spiral of the body at the end understands the obvious. But no, I was not thirsty. I made sure to drink water just before bed, so it would not happen.

Then he would speak, and in the desert I found for a moment what I was looking for. And the happiness was so sweet and uncompromising. The experience was total, but it was too elusive, and it was not clear whether I really enjoyed it or its memory alone.

It is already morning, and I want to continue from there. Out of the desert at night, wanting to find my water. I know they're there. I'm cynical, but it's a fact that I went through a night like this, with such an "atomic" dream, without details, and yet completely obscure. This is how our life, I understand, is very atomic and blocked. Sometimes we surround ourselves with details, creating chaos so that we can make order that gives us the illusion of meaning. But the big question mark lies in the lack of details, after we have cleaned everything, that there is one quiet night and we dreamed an informational, inner dream that reveals almost nothing in us.