Should we be able to…?

No. 23

We’re allowed to dream as long as we keep going. I’ve become so used to the repetitive motion that it’s easy to forget where I am. As long as my body is handling a task my mind can travel anywhere. 

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I decide to paint while I’m fixing a panel. I think of a subject : the world outside is becoming more alien to me. I could try to piece all my memories together to form an image:

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Gray paint is dripping from the canvas
It sheds and bleeds bright orange tears
From a red circle, soon a red shape
Then no longer red, no more than a smear

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And soon the sun is covered by clouds
And no rays go through the window
For the end of the world is neither bright,
Nor red, nor orange, nor yellow

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It is lonely and cold, but soon it becomes
lonely and gray, and…yellow?
The troubled artist forgot 
to clean her brush, she follows

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It is the end of the world and 
With that new stain the end of the world can be 
Yellow, gray, or even brown, more
Painful, sour, bitter, it can be 

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Like summer, long hours
Like a forest, Like the universe outside
It is overbearing, it spreads
Like dead flowers

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But maybe there is too much gray, 
our world is already gray
And the end was better,
Is there a way to fix this error?

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No ! The End… 

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The artist is caught in the void
For it is the end of the day
And the end of the world is something new
It is none of the colors she imagined before
 

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At last, I gave up on the outside world. It’s hard for me to dream with my head facing the ground. I always have to stop and pay attention to something else. 

But I know I’ll come back to this. If I can’t dream at night, I might as well do it during the day.