About Me

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The Madman, "Yes, three days, three centuries, three aeons. Strange they would always weigh and measure. It is always a sundial and a pair of scales."

Sunday, September 13, 2009


I am a dreamer and I have been dreaming…about a lot of things. I am a dreamer and I am just that. In your world I am ugly, I am psychotic, I am dangerous. In my world I am a decent-enough, nice guy.

I am a dreamer. I do things but I never think about what I do or maybe, I do think but I don’t know what I think or maybe, I know what I think but I don’t know that I know. I don’t know. I am confused. I am entangled in my conflicting dreams.

I am a dreamer and I write my dreams. I write my dreams to you. I wonder whether you wonder why I write to you coz I do. I write to you my dreams coz it’s you I dream about or maybe, I dream about what I dream is you. I don’t know. I am confused. I am entangled in my words.

I am a dreamer. I dream in this world but about my own world. I used to know you. I was beginning to know you. Then, you stopped my knowing. A lot of memories remained incomplete. What was incomplete made me dream restless dreams. I was churning in my mind and as usual, I was dreaming. Now, I am sick. I am sick of dreaming.

I am a dreamer. I thought I loved you. Now I know, I used to love you. Now, I love someone else. She has the same name. She has the same face and the same body and the same voice but she is not you. She is my dream. She is my dream of you. When I wrote to you and said I love you, I was not lying. I was mistaken. I was dreaming.

I am a dreamer and you left too many incomplete memories. I completed them but not in this world, in mine. We were together for such a short time in this world and then we parted and since then we’ve been together. We’ve been together in my world. There I still love you very much but there you are not you. I am not me here. I am me there. So, it’s not purely surreal. I don’t know. It’s a confusion. It’s entangled in reality and dreams. When I wrote to you and said I love you, it felt like a lie. Now I know why. You had left me with nothing but incomplete memories and I filled up the empty spaces with my own images. I changed you and us and distorted the reality to fit what was not real. We’ve been together since forever and till forever. We made love. We touched. We looked. We ate together, walked together, fought and cried and made up later. We were there, I was there but you weren’t. I thought you were but it was my thought. Till we parted, I loved you coz I knew you. After that I knew someone else and loved someone else.

I am a dreamer and I kept dreaming about being with you in this world too but that won’t be. Even if we meet, it won’t be. Even if you say it should be, it won’t be coz I don’t want it to be coz I don’t love you. You are not whom I love. I love my dream of you. You won’t fit my dream and why should you! How would you? You are not a dreamer, I am.

I am a dreamer and I write my dreams. I am writing my dreams to you though it is not you that I dream about. I am writing to you coz there is no one else to write to. My dream of you doesn’t accept written words. She only accepts dreams. So, I dream about my dream of you. Dreaming about my dream of you is driving me crazy. Maybe I am going crazy. Maybe I am crazy.


  1. very, very, very, very, very passionate...

    ...but I think it takes a lot of sufferin on a person's part to produce this kinda stuff....n I don't like to imagine u being the sufferer (naturally!)....so the sis comes in n the poet goes out wen i read this, sorry!