Yesterday I talked to a friend on the phone. We were sitting there in our worlds, drinking, smoking and talking about dreaming at night. We dream every night, we dream a lot, we dream more than we ever used to. We wake up, shouting, sweating, crying.
We are rational people, we know the answers: We have depressions. Celebrate parties. Take drugs. Yearn.
No wonder. At all.
But it is these fading summer days making us dream.
Dream until things have changed.