For the Night is Long and Full of Longings ~

We aspire .. In spite of us, we dream, we do crave for something, whether attainable or beyond our reach, we do thirst for that which makes us whole and mirthful …

Dreams make us beautifully yet painfully Human. It aches to dream for it is only with consistent toil that we touch the end of the line and feel that our hopes are under our exhausted yet firm grasp.

It is believed that the human beings greatest punishment is to labour the earth for eternity so as to pay for the First Man’s Original Sin. I believe that Man’s hardest labour is to dream, for they haunt as long as we breathe. We close our eyes at night to give our souls up to the realm of unsatisfied wishes. The real world darkens as our eyelashes embrace each other to wake up amidst a world of utter perfection and bliss.

We yearn and we dwell on our yearnings as we progress in the course of our existence. We daydream, we get lost in an alien dimension in the blatant light of day, in the presence of life itself .. We neglect what it offers to delve into what we willingly offer ourselves .. Is it an escape ? Is it the decision of a soul at once tired and scared ? No !  It is the free choice of so brave a spirit  … A spirit that fearlessly turned her back on Life .. What is the use to linger in the throes of an existence that we so fiercely despise ?  

We daydream to rejoice in the aloofness of a life of our own choosing. It is those little moments amid the natural flow of day that stop us only to make us go forward. It is those short-lived episodes that unveil a possible prospect of joy in the enigmatic future that fuel our fatigued beings and them to motion.

As the light of day perishes, we do not easily surrender our spirits to dreamy sleep. On the verge of sleep, the soul hungers and desires. On the brink of a long unconscious night, the soul endures a lifetime of longings. It is a whole era; a Pre-Sleeping Era. Before sleep, the human being relives the day in its totality and links it, to his own logic, to a distant moment itching in the memory. Before sleep, the wounded cry, the blessed pray to preserve their happy state, the humiliated plot their revenge and the anxious calculate ways to persist in this life.

Therapeutic it is to plunge into The Pre-Sleeping Era, for it holds the ever-evasive shadow of a promise; a promise that one day, we might become what we aspire to be. The human being becomes the narrator of his own story; he recalls a joyful instant and fervently imagines its sequence .. He smiles over a mere possibility, sighs at the mere thought of love and build hopes upon a word or a faint glimpse of happiness …

Freud believed that in dreams, we quench all what we crave for in the wake of night. I believe, however, that ere our daily dark slumber, we consciously weave stories of the might-have-been ..

And that is how ferociously we want what we want …