time : one week ago.
I think I'll like long walks on the beach. I think I'll like walking aimlessly across the whole length with feet one moment knee deep in the waves, another moment ankle deep, and another moment no water at all.
time : now
I *like* long walks on the beach. I actually did it- out there- in reality. Not in my head; not walking like some angelic vision; but actually, in the dirtiest set of *decent clothes so that no one will think I'm some roadside tramp* clothes, and it was every bit as good as the dream version.
And, it was a lot better. There are details that dreams can never get. Imagination, when not informed by brutal reality, is always a blur. Ever wonder why we always get up when we're just about to fall, or just about to hit a car, or maybe just when you're getting awarded some prize, or just when you've finally managed to gather the courage to tell someone something nice/rude/obscene/frank ? If you've never done it before, then there's no way you're gonna know how it'll feel. Not even in a dream. I think, if you haven't experienced falling down a ten storey building, then you're not going to be able to dream the feeling of the bones cracking or the skull breaking. The brain doesn't know, because you haven't felt it before.
Ok- that's my theory (or perhaps I've read it somewhere and now I'm dreaming it's something I came up. Plagiarism is very easy for dreamy souls :D. No ? It's not someone else's theory ? It's mine ? Oh well, take it. It's my contribution to science. Sell the stuff of dreams and give no pie of it to me. I'll dream up the revenge if I have to. Oh wait... I've never taken revenge. Hmm. Never mind. Do whatever you will.) But I digress.
My point is, sometimes things are just as wonderful in the doing as it is in the dreaming. I dunno how many things are. I dunno if becoming a movie star is the same as dreaming of being one. Somehow, I don't think it is. But something like being a mom, is probably going to be better than dreaming it. Or something like walking along a beach is going to be absolutely delicious.
It was ten thirty at night. There weren't too many people. The two people I had come along with didn't want to wet their feet. It was just right. I walked one way and then the other and then this way and then the other again. Each time felt different. Each time felt wonderful. Each time was addictive. I would've loved to scream at the top of my voice; not in a God! help me kind of way, but in a happy, ridiculously elated, God!Thank you kind of way. Thank him for nothing in particular. If every atom/gluon/mesons etc were truly in his control, then thank God in a making them atoms move about such that somehow I came to stand at that beach that night sorta way.
Oh and if God, you were pleased with my presence at the beach that night, could you maybe also at some point during *the rest of my life* make things happen so that I am standing in a large stretch of real snow and fir trees ? (suitably warmly clothed, with suitably warm persons around, with suitably pleasant things to say) Just a thought :)