A Fireside Dream

 

    Often times I find myself dreaming a recurring dream, a dream of a fire in the desert night. I'm by it, the fire crackling and lighting the surrounding area. Around it are others like me, like minded individuals tuned into the poetry and prose of the world. Fellow Kerouacians, Cassadians, and Ginsbergians, a commune of writers and learners, thinkers and doers. In this dream we're having a merry time of drink and drug, where completely in our own existence. We're there, beneath that desert sky of deep blue, the white stars shining like the brightest bulbs. I'm drunk but I'm the most lively I've ever. I'm drunk. I'm high, and I'm with a girl. She's beautiful. When I'm in the dream she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. We're dancing around the fire, smiling and laughing at one another, with one another. There's music playing, some early 2000's song. We're dancing and singing along, loving every second of the moment. This is my dream. These are my people. This is my tribe. If only I could find it in the real world, then maybe I'd be ok.

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