"The dreamers, you know, they are the ones who are really awake!"
"Yes! Or, at least, so I've heard. I can't help but think about a funny thing though, something that happened to me on one of my journeys abroad, a long time ago. There was this funny looking man that I would run into every now and then, and you would always remember his looks, partly because he was always wearing this rust-coloured fur coat that was a bit over-sized. The most noticeable thing about him, however, was that he would never finish a sentence. At first, I didn't notice this, I would just assume that he was temporarily distracted. But at some point, It began to bother me, it became an irritating fact that I couldn't seem to shake off. In one of our conversations, that used to take place in the late evenings at a diner close to where I lived, by the way, I finally gathered enough confidence to ask him about this. When he started talking, I imagined that I could see that he was mostly relieved to meet somebody that he could share this with, to have that basis of trust with someone. He began speaking of this affair he had a few years ago with a woman, they met at a bar, in the afternoon while the sun was still shining outside. And the look of each other blinded them both, so that they soon stopped to take notice of the sun outside. When they left, it was pitch black, and they were helplessly in love. Outside, it had started to rain, and as he was standing really close to her, he looked at her cheeks that were both covered with tiny drops of dark water. They crossed an open field, this wasn't far from the countryside, you know, and then as they were running side by side, she suddenly stopped. -Why do you stop, he asked, feeling nervous about this sudden gesture that seemed so rash. -If you must ask this, I cannot go on. I must leave us here, in this state of affairs, and never come back. She ran off, further into the darkness, causing a wave of black leaves to take off in the dark night behind her. He watched the leaves as they slowly fell to the ground, making no sound whatsoever. From that night, he said, this condition of his had been constant. I had been listening with great interest, but it all seemed a bit fabricated, to tell the truth. He seemed to have been making it up as he went along, really. I'd like to think that he was just a dreamer, like you and me, caught up in a daily whirlpool of love, making it hard to think straight for all its turns and spins, ups and downs. Wouldn't you? Because when it all comes down, it's not so hard to understand."
Doug Kershaw - Willie's Shades
