Tuesday, March 08, 2005

This will be a short one. I promise.

Once upon a time there was a little boy who dreamt he was flying. He had the largest, most beautiful wings that anyone had ever seen, and he soared upon thermals and eddies, through clouds and rainbows, and he looked down upon the vast beauty of the grasslands and animals of his homeland. Then, the little boy woke up, and found himself in a dark dank cave with dozens of other little boys like him, pale emaciated children who had never seen the light of day, and who were made to work everyday with little food and stale water. He sat on his thin prickly pallet and cried, until someone woke up and hit him to make the little boy shut up.

Everyday, the little boy would look forward to the end of the day, because when he lay down and closed his eyes, he would dream once again of flying, and how he loved the dream because it felt so real. He could feel the wind in his face and flowing, like a mother's tender touch, over his wings, and the fresh air he breathed was so different from the dank musty air in the caves. The sun, which he had never seen before, was a radiant ball of hope in the sky, showing him the way. He even saw the other children from the cave, flying beside him, and they laughed merrily as they flew. The dream was never long enough, because he would soon be awoken by a sharp jab to his ribs, to continue the monotony of his labour. Day after day, he could think of nothing but the dream, and he told the other children about it, excitedly, only to be laughed and sneered at, for being a fool.

One day, he went to sleep and never woke up, his body weakened by malnutrition, but his face was almost radiant under the dirt that stained his pale skin. A beatific smile lingered on his lips. He never knew, because finally, his dream had become an eternal flight towards the heavens. It had become reality.

Are the Fallen allowed to Dream?

Some Day, I'll fly away, and leave all this to Yesterday. Why live Life from Dream to Dream, and dread the Day, that Dreaming ends?

Don't me ask what the story is about. If anything, ask yourself, because I hope it means something to you. I was contemplating whether or not to explain, but I guess some things are better left unsaid. After all, emotions that are so strong cannot be put into words.

Happy studying, and all the best!

Avaris / 3/08/2005 02:45:00 PM

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