Every morning I wake up on the wonderful white couch on this island and talk about my dreams.
I survive well in the nightmares. Recently I have had lots of survival dreams, despite all odds, I make it through. I wake up un-harmed, but often mentally and emotionally reeling, untill the dreams fade away like in a steamy bathroom, slowly revealing the mirrors reflection and the true state of my clean face and helmet head hair, parted and dripping.
Every one's in my dreams:
my sisters, mom, my old best friends, beloved teachers, ex-girlfriends, ex-dance partners, ex-co workers, new crushes, new dancer friends, new lovers, new best friends, long lost friends, long lost lovers, insects, giraffes, whales, snakes, firemen, sailors, grandmas, bed skirts, pinatas', broken glass face, sandpeople, hero's, soothsayers, healers, dogs, crabs, small doors, every color, changing colors, fast skateboards, splintering ships, drunk people, dying families, sobbing me, all knowing me, heartbroken me, in-love me.
In my dresams I am braver.
In my dreams I say everything.
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