The Sandman:

All passed quickly. Autumn had finally sunk into its great descent, where leaves from treetops lay plastered on the damp ground. The sudden downpour had taken us all by surprise, where its spillage remained in the depths of my handbag. I could not go too far for fear that life itself might be unable to catch up. This cat-and-mouse routine of an endless chase, never will come to a standstill. The road seem utterly hard to walk along with its raised gravel and random holes. As I stood in the middle of nowhere with my bag propped up on a car’s rear, an idea struck me. The kind of thought you would simply want to jot down on paper and keep it safe and out of sight. It was times like these that made you worry about the larger picture. The big question. Apparently, my shoes had been worn out from my tiresome yet, endless journey. Maybe the question might not be that hard to ask. If only it could roll off my lips as easily as I typed. Every idea, jotted down straight from the inner depths of my soul remains untainted and raw. A kind of freshness that few would want to tackle for fear of the many repercussions it might have. But seriously, who gives a fuck really. If you look around you, people are caught up with themselves, tripping over the little trivial issues that endear them to you. Even you yourself, is far from perfect. You that is in reference to me. Sometimes, all you desire and yearn for is silence. Silence that can be shared with people who would sit beside you and spend time, afterwhich feel that they have maintained the best conversation throughout that whole period. Others, who would go on and on about the life and observations about them, you engaging in your own silent way, letting them know your always physically and mentally prepared to let them in if ever they break down. Yet, these soul mates are hard to find, and by searching relentlessly, some day it would be possible to realize that they aren’t that far away, and they could be friends right beside you. I know that, cause I have found my group of friends, who might not realize it, but I do appreciate their being there, regardless of whether we speak or whether there remains plausible silence.


On another note, in a nightmarish world of uncertainties, there are very few who understand you, who even bother to open up to you. People whom you might at times withdraw from, clam up against not from anything but simple fear of allowing them deep within you. Letting them unravel too much. The Sandman that sneaks to and fro the likeness of the living and the “breathing dead” see way too much, and becomes immune to the sickness of man’s frivolity and fickleness. He introduces nightmares to break even the hardest of people, to send them out into their world, searching for a cure, which often takes the shape of a comforting friend. He also creates illusions, happy dreams, sad dreams, harmless ones in texture just to allow you breathing space and an emptiness which you can draw from within yourself, strength and the courage to face another day. We have all been there, down that stretch of nightmares and happy dreams, surfacing occasionally, coming clean with our friends with philosophical reasons for the existence of such dreams. But deep down we know, when we sleep, we dream and feed on it, living an existential part of our life through things that might seem ridiculous in real life situations, and only possible through the active use of our imaginations. Bringing out the worse and best of both the unimaginative and dreamers alike.