With, Without

I don’t want the reader to feel trapped in a dream, caused by the flight of a bumblebee around a pomegranate a second before awakening…

I want to show people what happens when one neglects to investigate life.

When the surreal becomes ridiculous, the game is over…

When the ridiculous becomes quite believable, within standards you and I may comprehend, the story takes shape.

“A very old man with enormous wings, in the courtyard of an old Spanish villa.”

“The colors of autumn change with a man’s realization that…”

“Train tracks that mean so much more to the universe than to the passengers that ride them.”

And I like Dali, but that is not life.

And here, my only fear is that I look back on this life and realize that…

It wasn’t what I wanted at all.

Walking on a beach, I lent a hand to a small sailor who had shipwrecked in the reefs.

He hadn’t been waiting long but still, I felt obligated to offer him my pipe.

We traveled back to the inn, where we drank and were humbled by the fire.

“This is where life had taken place, this tavern.” I told my drunken compatriot.

He only smiled before dozing off into another dream.

I had awoken sometime after breakfast

A young tramp tugged at my sleeve.

Upon scolding the young bastard, he promptly seized his cane and waltzed away.

I collected my wits and the coat rack followed suit.

We walked sunset strip.

Superman smiled and I tipped him a shining emerald stone.

“It was I, in the beginning and it was I in the end. Nothing is what we want it to be, but we always receive whatever we send. We will all believe this love a necessity, even in the face of the most binding doubt. Don’t ever forget what you believe to be true, either with, or of course, without.”