That girl in my dream knew something about me and felt we had a bond, but I couldn't even see her face.
DON'T IGNORE ME, ADRIAN, I'M NOT VERMIN!
Someone told me a long time ago there was such a thing called a psychic link; an invisible thread that is fed upon empathy, that's why I was taught to give back instead of keeping things to yourself. It doesn't have to do anything with karma or religion or any deranged cult out there. It's just a way of extending yourself.
Art should be like this, but then others don't do it, they're selfish and get all caught up in their little universe. I think I made sense when I hugged Edith, not quite sure if she felt a deeper connection with me after this, but it did help me to be quite aware of how concerned she was about her family, maybe she left the nest too early and I left it too late. Nevertheless she shows up every now and then in my visions, like a specter or a ghost with her thin raven hair hiding her killer smile, surrounded by a royal blue ambient.
I can understand the act of connecting with people I've met, but what about those that I haven't even seen or heard about in real life? Stupid little girl, excuse me, but she kept bugging me that night.
Damn, now I'm getting a flashback from art school;
"How do you see these trees? They are yellow. So, put in yellow; this shadow, rather blue, paint it with pure ultramarine; these red leaves? Put in vermilion. That's what Paul Gaugin said."
Gray, everything was particularly gray and with somber tones in that dream, it reminded me of the time I was more seclusive in my earlier days, do you think the girl symbolized an entire population that I chose to ignore? I haven't addressed anybody lately except for my closest friends and family.
Afternoon came, around 1:11 PM, the sun was up hours ago and I was still tidying up, can't work when everything ‘s scattered all over the place, makes you feel like your mind is a mess as well. Let's see, I started with my bed, I put one there because I worked long hours sometimes, it was very improvised actually, but it was covered with a thick red soft quilt, in fact in reminded me of the color of poppies; we used to joke about it because they thought I liked doing heavy drugs...depends on what you label as drugs, heavy would be just a compliment. There were these other sets of semi-professional paints they gave me and I kept because I didn’t have the heart to say that they were useless to me, maybe could come in handy later, but somehow that “later” never comes.
HAVING FUN YET?
“I’m tired, so fucking tired, can’t explain how incredibly exhausted I am. I need my strength back soon.”
PATIENCE DEAR, ONE STEP AT A TIME, DON’T GET EXPOSED TOO MUCH TO THE COLD, THOUGH…
“Are you kidding me? The weather’s incredible here, 60 degrees and sunny; that’s the problem, you ask me for patience, it doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”
YOU WERE ALWAYS SO JUMPY, NO WONDER YOU LIKE RABBITS…
“Edith…”
YES?
“Are you happy?”
YES, OF COURSE, WHY ARE YOU ASKING ME THAT?
“What do you consider being happy?”
Well, having everything I always wanted, that’s one. You are one of them.
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