"Someone said that dreams are the mirror of our soul..."
My dreams are heavy to accept, and I don't know why.
Sleeping, I've walked inside the lands of sorrow too many times, looking for a light I've never found. In my dreams I'm the only actor for thousands cruel worlds, or a lonely wolf for an infinite winter mountain.
The real life , the life I live, is tight for me and I feel the suffocating sense of disease killing my soul while I try to arrange some resistance.
The only escape I've always found in all of this is the ART.
Poetry, painting, drawing, programming, an endless refuge to escape... escape... escape but from what ?
I see through my child eyes the cold of people all around; over there the dreams are finished or ignored.
I see the "big men of power" that move population, starting wars without a bit of remorse; over there the gold is the only light, a light that made blindness.
I see that everywhere , the art is suffocated; and everywhere, artists have failed with themselves.
We should fight more for what we believe! No one can stop an unchained creative mind that strongly believes himself.. not a man , not a beast, nothing !!!
These are not only my dreams I suppose, but also the dreams of those who failed with this Era; those who advanced inside the dark without the light within and losed the main road. Should I say "nightmares" then?
No, dreams put a shadow of hope over all, and if there is a shadow there is also a light...
I will fight to return inside my dreams and I will try to transpose the most of them into my cold reality...good or worst this is what I must do.
If you have this Karma too, don't let it goes, but use it as a shield for this "dark medieval future"!
This is my only suggestion... To you, the last choice.
"A life without the Art loses the only sense she has"
Lord Hol Napult
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