Sunday, November 21, 2004
Another Dream...
And I had another dream of her. I am not sure I like this dreaming of her thing that my subconsciousness seems so eager of doing.
Nothing naughty ever happens in those dreams. It's mostly just me looking at her, marvelling over her, and she becomes more and more beautiful and statuesque with each and every dream I have of her.
I don't like that either, because now my mind makes her into something that she probally isn't even close, setting myself up for major disappointment, if I even ever get to see her again, that is.
I have this thing for Nicole Kidman, you see. I think she is one of the most beautiful women in the world, and whenever I lay eyes upon her, I stare openmouthed and in awe... yet she is not a woman I would ever dare touch, would I ever have the chance, no matter how much I think I want to. She, to me, is like an icon, a statue, something outerwordly beautiful and godly and unreal, which would be ruined and spoiled by my unworthy touch.
And now my mind is making Jo into something like that. It's making her into this untouchable goddess, whose mercy I am subject to, and whose touch would save me.
And I am not even religious.
It's stupid, really.
Oh, my dream? By now I only remember bits and pieces of what it was about... I remember I was in a car with her on the backseat, while the car was going somewhere, and I was just silently sitting next to her, adoringly watching her when I thought she wasn't looking, basking in her unbelievably blue eyes and bright all-consuming smile, just enjoying being able to be there right next to her. But I knew something was going on, something more than her light cheerful chatter with me would convey... because the next thing I know was she turned around to me, looked into my eyes with those sapphire eyes of hers, then slowly lifted her hands up to my face and gave me the softest, most tender kiss on my lips I have ever experienced... and while I was floating there completely taken by her touch and her attention, she turned back around and continued chatting with me as if nothing ever happened.
That's really all I remember... that kiss... and her loving look at me. And that halo that my mind is producing around her.
And I woke up being mad at myself for dreaming of her, when there is really nothing I can do about her. My mind is so powerful in that regard that when I now think of her, instead of a slight pang of regret that I won't see her anymore, I now feel a sharp blade of pain stabbing me. Pain and longing for a person I don't even know, and have seen only twice in my life, at completely superficial occasions.
One might think I am experiencing a backflash into my teenage years here... because I should know better than that. :(
Nothing naughty ever happens in those dreams. It's mostly just me looking at her, marvelling over her, and she becomes more and more beautiful and statuesque with each and every dream I have of her.
I don't like that either, because now my mind makes her into something that she probally isn't even close, setting myself up for major disappointment, if I even ever get to see her again, that is.
I have this thing for Nicole Kidman, you see. I think she is one of the most beautiful women in the world, and whenever I lay eyes upon her, I stare openmouthed and in awe... yet she is not a woman I would ever dare touch, would I ever have the chance, no matter how much I think I want to. She, to me, is like an icon, a statue, something outerwordly beautiful and godly and unreal, which would be ruined and spoiled by my unworthy touch.
And now my mind is making Jo into something like that. It's making her into this untouchable goddess, whose mercy I am subject to, and whose touch would save me.
And I am not even religious.
It's stupid, really.
Oh, my dream? By now I only remember bits and pieces of what it was about... I remember I was in a car with her on the backseat, while the car was going somewhere, and I was just silently sitting next to her, adoringly watching her when I thought she wasn't looking, basking in her unbelievably blue eyes and bright all-consuming smile, just enjoying being able to be there right next to her. But I knew something was going on, something more than her light cheerful chatter with me would convey... because the next thing I know was she turned around to me, looked into my eyes with those sapphire eyes of hers, then slowly lifted her hands up to my face and gave me the softest, most tender kiss on my lips I have ever experienced... and while I was floating there completely taken by her touch and her attention, she turned back around and continued chatting with me as if nothing ever happened.
That's really all I remember... that kiss... and her loving look at me. And that halo that my mind is producing around her.
And I woke up being mad at myself for dreaming of her, when there is really nothing I can do about her. My mind is so powerful in that regard that when I now think of her, instead of a slight pang of regret that I won't see her anymore, I now feel a sharp blade of pain stabbing me. Pain and longing for a person I don't even know, and have seen only twice in my life, at completely superficial occasions.
One might think I am experiencing a backflash into my teenage years here... because I should know better than that. :(
