I dream of unspeakable joys that no man has ever seen, which none could touch and not die upon feeling such delight. I dream of night that knows no dawn, no, never: that it is sufficient unto itself the darkness of which closes its city from day, whose stars shine on and on. I dream of mountains a hundred miles high, whose peaks only angels have ever tread upon. I dream of seas so deep its waters seep into the center of the world, and no living thing has ever tasted its brine. I dream of colors that exist in the fringes of existence, shades imbued only in the irises of mythic creatures. I dream of life, and it is strange: sometimes the dreaming of days is not so satisfying as those I live in my waking, that the odor of life is not so pleasing as taking a big bite of it, chewing, and swallowing it down. I dream of time, and time dreams me... where does it go?
