I built it (my idea) a new house, one with an open roof where it could look up at the stars -- a place where it could be safe to dream.
I am too close . . .
I am too close for him to dream of me.
I don’t flutter over him, don’t flee him
beneath the roots of trees. I am too close.
The caught fish doesn’t sing with my voice.
The ring doesn’t roll from my finger.
I am too close. The great house is on fire
without me calling for help. Too close
for one of my hairs to turn into the rope
of the alarm bell.
And as I writhe in my guilty agony, frantic to save the city whose peril every moment grows, and vainly striving to shake off this unnatural dream of a house of stone and brick south of a sinister swamp and a cemetery on a low hillock; the Pole Star, evil and monstrous, leers down from the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey.
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-a house with flowers and trees around it, and a river nearby, and a room full of books, and someone there to love me, that’s all. Just to make a home there, and to care for my parents when they grow older. Never to move, never to board a plane again, just to live quietly and then be buried in the earth. What else is life for? But even that seems so beyond me that it’s like a dream, completely unrelated to anything in reality.
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My dream ?
It's to live a happy life with the one ı love and our child in a charming house surrounded by flowers.
The Five Credos of Success
1. Yesterday's dreams are today's realities.
2. See your dreams ahead of time now: This is a call to action. Don't just talk about dreaming. Dream! Virtually everything I've accomplished of any consequence I visualized and dreamed of before it happened.
3. Simulation - Practice within when
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Jeanette Winterson
When I dream of a future in her arms no dark days appear' not even a head cold, and though I know it's nonsense I really believe we would always be happy and that our children would change the world.
I sound like those soldiers who dream of home . . .
No. She'd vanish for days at a time and I'd weep. She'd forget we had any children and leave me to take care of them. She'd gamble our house away at the Casino, and if I took her to live in France she'd grow to hate me.
I know all this and it makes no difference.
She'd never be faithful.
She'd laugh in my face.
First love. Lust.
My passion can be explained away. But this is sure: whatever she touches, she reveals.
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