In My Dreams I Am Free

Sometimes I dream about having a separate room with a pure wooden desk and a forest view to write in the mornings. I imagine waking up without an alarm, going to the bathroom, wearing my pink sweat pants and drinking water.

I see myself putting the half-empty cup of coffee next to my MacBook and simultaneously opening a beautiful Moleskine notebook, filled with many unfinished sentences. I observe myself trying to focus, looking through the large window and wondering how to start.

I fantasize about writing. 

In my dreams, I write about all the people who should say what they think, do what they mean and listen to others. About people who should believe in what they do and act as they promised. I write about all the doubts, fears and insecurities. 

I write that I do not want to be afraid to risk, feel, fall in love and ask for help. That I want to try until it is done and search until it’s found.

I write about loosing, searching, finding and recycling my heart. About dancing when everybody’s watching and singing when no one’s listening. About learning, teaching, loving and being loved. 

I see myself frowning and writing in capital letters that I WANT TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE; I want to follow my dreams. But firstly, I want to understand what I need.

In my writings, I see many sentences convincing myself that it’s ok to say no or maybe even never. I also notice there a lot of questions. About how to listen, how to relax, how to let it be. How to speed up. How to slow down. How to breathe. 

How to create the rules. How to cross the boundaries. How to trust. How to hope. How to ask. How to listen and how to hear. When to be reasonable and why sometimes it is better not to be. 

I write about having fun, laughing, exercising and cooking together. I write about sex on the table and the longest kisses in my life. I write about satisfaction, common sense and acting folly.

In my dreams, I write poems. I will read them to you in bed in the middle of the night. You will say that you did not know me from this side.

In my dreams, I write about us. 

I create my own rules just because of the fun of breaking them later. I write about expectations which I do not want to follow, changes which I need to make and curiosity, which often bothers my soul. 

I write about deciding what’s and who’s important and letting go of what and who isn’t. I write about staying quiet, screaming, crying and speaking. I write about everything that makes me happy, sad, satisfied, bored or (un)interested.

I fantasize about being honest.

Sometimes I dream about having a big white bathtub in my bedroom to relax after writing. I imagine removing my pink sweat pants, taking a long bath, looking at you lying in bed and sleeping naked. 

I dream about dreaming. And you know what I am doing in my dreams?

I write, I dance and I speak Spanish.

In my dreams, I am not afraid.

In my dreams,

I am
free.

 

 

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