Tell Me No More of Enchanted Days

I have a countless beautiful dreams right now..some are real, some wishful, but they are dreams neverthless. I had forgotten a few, given up on some, but they're back again, swishing away the darkness in a warm quilt of hope...the farmhouse with the animals, the restaurant near the sea, the house on a meadow of yellow flowers, learning Gaelic, baking cakes... These days all I feel like doing is lying in the sun, watching the kites high across in the sky and daydreaming, as the smells of cooking fill up my house. I wish I could take a year off and just travel, another year off and read and write and watch movies...I dream of having my own kids as well..All my friends would also have kids and how we would all be happy in a daze of white light on a white porch and a green garden with white picket fences, watching them play, and us having tea in a fancy China set with coconut macaroons and cheese sandwiches... The first thing to do is get away. I'm longing to be near the sea again.

They say if you think of someone before you sleep and think of them before you open your eyes, you're probably falling in love. Oscar Wilde also said, "There are two kinds of tragedies. One is not getting what you want, the other is getting it." Methinks, I'm thinking of what I couldn't get, and not of what I did. In any case, it's all wrong and screwed up. But who cares, flighty thoughts never hurt anyone. In my case, it's making me feel like a teenager with pimples all over again. And I never had pimples even as a teenager. I like day dreaming. I like much more the thought of never getting what I want right now. Because if I did, I wouldn't want it anymore :)

The Return of Ulysses - Giorgio De Chirico I get only easy, yeah, I get on. One look at your red haired love, one black tear shed, and I get on. The living's not easy, the dirt and smoke in the dreams of a hill, the technicolours of ash, in a night of bliss, But I get on. Days pass slowly, nights get old, the lines on my face are bolder, the glow on my hands is cold. But I get on. I needed speed once, now I'm all alone, I needed love once, now I'm flat tyre sulking on a cold desert road. But I get on. The sea's still waiting for me, I'm walking it by, the mermaids still sing for me, but their spells don't work, I shut them up high and dry. But I get on. I got one foot in the sand, one time I'll grow a wing, push these chains away, and run with one leg to the sun, fly face down to the land. I might not be Ulysses, I might not be Icarus, I might not be a Pip Not even an animal hero Aslan, But I'll get on, yeah, I'll get on. That's all I fight to d

The time for cribbing is over. How many married people envy us singletons...we do what we want, we have no one calling to find out what time we reach home, nor are we answerable to anyone. I sat at a cafe with another single girlfriend. The winter sun fell on our faces, and after watching a movie and shopping, we discussed fantasy authors like CS Lewis and Tolkien. It was peaceful. Peaceful and happy. I've been single for a year, mostly complaining about it. But not anymore. No Sir! Come, don't take a chance, I'm not up for chances, I want to fly some more, I need to die some more, A sip of wine, a taste of love, A time to fall into circles, A time to look above, It's not that time yet, It's only time to kill time, watch telly, drink a Cosmo, It's time for the self to know what it knew once before...