These fading summer days

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.


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