I Kissed You

Dreams dreams dreams. That portal into the subconscious, that portal into your ultimate desire. That portal that will, once you attain it, collapse… leaving you unable to get it back. Leaving you with just the memory of what you almost had.

What I love about dreams is how one single moment can feel like it lasts an eternity. One thing happens, and nothing else matters anymore. But even eternity will end.

I saw you again. I can’t remember why you were there. I don’t care. I forgot your face! Why do never remember your face? Does it have some meaning? Rarely when I see you do I look at your face. I’m always from behind or beside you. And when I do see you, I can’t remember anything. I remember that one dream where I saw you so clearly, and in the midst of my dream I repeated to myself how you look so that I won’t forget, but I still did.

What made this time so unique compared to the other times was you and I staring out from a high balcony on what I thought was some alien world, but in the distance there was the ocean and a couple of wooden ships. I don’t understand why everything appeared in a kind of black and white. And then… it’s so odd just to write it down, but I must because this I don’t want to forget… you slowly turned your face and I kissed you. I kissed your beautiful moist lips. Or rather, not quite. It was more like a half-kiss. As I said, you were turning around so I only managed to kiss half of your lips before the door opened and you vanished.

Until next time, my love.


Die Persiese Droom

Hierdie keer het jy op ‘n ander manier in my droom opgedaag. Die keer was jy nie die hoof fokus van die begin af nie. Nee. Die keer het jy vir my teruggevat na die Roman Empire toe.

O! Die Romeinse Ryk! In my droom was ek een of ander revolutionary. Ek en ‘n vriend van my was oppad na die emporer se paleis toe. Daarso het ons ‘n bom geplant in sy huis om sy seun dood te maak. My vriend het sy lewe verloor in daardie mission! Maar gelukkig het die bom my kans geggee om weg te kom.

En die mense het gejuig toe hulle gehoor het wat ek gedoen het! Hulle het my as ‘n held gesien. En tussen deur die skare het ek jou gesien. Jy het ‘n persiese doek oor jou kop gehad en in die skare in verdwyn. Ek het jou gaan soek – en jou gekry!

Die keer het jy ‘n donkerder vel gehad, soos ‘n Persiër. Of was dit ‘n wit vel? Ek onthou toe ek jou gesien het, het ek half geweet dis ‘n droom en hardop vir myself gesê hoe jy lyk sodat ek nie vergeet nie. En alhoewel ek nie meer daai beeld in my kop het nie, kan ek onthou wat ek gesê het. Jy het donker oë gehad, bruin of swart hare wat nie lank of kort was nie… en jou gesig! Hel, dis die eerste keer wat ek jou gesig so duidelik gesien het. Ek kan nie die beeld meer so mooi onthou nie, maar ek weet dit was mooi. In totaal wat my verbaas het was dat jy volwasse was. Jy was nie ‘n jong meisie, en ook nie oud nie. En tog in my droom het dit my nie gepla nie, asof ek ook so oud was. Wat beteken dit? Ek weet nie.

O ja! Ek onthou jyt heeltyd in blydskap my gevra hoekom ek dit gedoen het, hoekom ek die bom geplant het. Eks nie doodseker wat ek gesê het nie, maar ek dink ek het gesê dat ek dit vir julle gedoen het.

Het ek jou toe ‘n drukkie gegee?

Wat ‘n vreemde, half kinderagtige, maar tog volmaakte droom! Tot volgende keer, my Lief.

Dream Girl

I’m writing this post more to document this dream. With this I mean I’m writing this for myself, just like most of the posts on this blog. It may not seem interesting to other people. I just feel like I shouldn’t quite forget this dream (yet). It feels like one of those dreams you’ll forget in a few days.

Before I begin I’m saying this: While I was making this paragraph above I was wondering why I was using English for this post instead of Afrikaans. If I am writing this post solely for myself, then why use English and not my mother tongue?
I immediately knew the answer. I’ve known it in the back of my mind for a while. If I were to write some of the things on this blog in Afrikaans, things would – at least for me – feel a thousandfold more detailed, gritty and personal. By using English I am avoiding this intense… emotion (?).

Anyway, to the dream.

I believe I was in some kind of mall. It was just before or after some event. Perhaps I just arrived from the airport or I was going to go somewhere with some people. I vaguely recall talking to a guy and a girl about something related to whatever was going on and for some reason he ended up with my jacket. A short while after they left I realised I left my phone in the jacket’s pocket.

So immediately I rushed through the mall trying to find them. I remember being perplexed by the amount of book stores in the mall. At one time I was questioning being so rash and intruding on people walking by by running into them. But I quickly decided that finding my phone was more important than a few strangers’ comfort.

At one point I walked or ran down a flight of stairs. At the end of them was a sort of platform. You know those rectangular platforms joining flights of stairs? No? Well anyway the platform both had a flight of stairs leading upwards and another leading downwards.

On this platform I ran into a girl I knew. Not one I know in real life. A girl which in the dream was slightly familiar. We started talking about I know not what. I recall still being anxious to find my phone, but after a while I forgot about it. I remember while we talked I kept trying not to look her in the eyes. I think she tried (or simply told me) to look her in the eyes while we talked. All I know is that we had a great conversation.

I can’t remember how she looks. All I know is that a part of her face was slightly darker than the rest. A dark line (just darker, not black) across her face between her eyes and her nose. Like a black and white picture with a line across it being darker than the rest of the picture.

For some reason I had to leave by going down the stairs. I remember having my arm around her waist as we walked towards the stairs. I think she also held me in the same way. I was slightly amazed at this. I mean after all we barely know each other. A part of me wanted to let her go – to stop holding her as we walked – because I thought I was making her uncomfortable. So I decided I will keep her by my side with my arm around her waist until she left me, until she took away her arm from me. She didn’t. This was both strange and amazing. Those two or three steps away from the stairs felt like ages. Long, beautiful millennia.

I don’t remember how we said goodbye, if we did. It’s a dream after all.

Such dreams are incredibly rare for me. Usually in my dreams good things like this don’t happen. Usually I will wake up before they do. I rarely have dreams as sweet as this.

I mean it sounds rather dull: I had a dream where I walked with a girl to a flight of stairs. So interesting (sarcasm). Yet in a dream the feelings one feels are not like in normal life. They are closer to your heart than when you are awake. They are more intense.