Dreams/Nightmares III

    Waves. The sound of waves rushes in to awaken your senses. You find yourself standing, waiting beside a sea of times, the dawn waiting to creep onto your wet, rubbery feet like a forlorn lover. The wind reaches out to ruffle your sand crusted hair.
     You look around, you see shadows, standing, waiting, some near you, some at a distance, and one at the far end of the time. You approach the nearest shadow. He turns around to face you. You know him, you could know him ten years from now on, for he is you.

You: I know you.
He: I know you too.
You: You are me.
He: I am you.
You: But you, you look strange. Your eyes twinkle, they dance like raging dragonflies. Your voice, it is so rough, yet so promising. You look like a banished knight. Who are you?
He: I am who you wish to be, who you aspire to be. I am you, who may never be.

   The shadow slowly fazes out into the universe. The sea rushes in. Your knees get wet.
   You approach the next shadow in the line, a strange, broken figure, outlined against the bluesy, asleep sky. He turns around to face you, you know him, twenty years from now, he is you.

You: I know you.
He: You do? How does it change the story?
You: You are me.
He: How does that matter now.
You: But you, you look strange. Your face looks like no light has ever burned it alive. Your countenance, reminds me of a broken hulled, torn sailed ship. You look like the epitome of defeat. Who are you?
He: It doesn't change anything anymore, but I am who you're afraid to be, who you never wish to see in the mirror. I am you, who you maybe oneday. But believe me, it doesn't change anything.

The shadow slowly fades out into infinity. You shudder because of the terror, and because of the cold water, which slowly damps your sandy chests. You approach the next figure, a small, timid little figure. He turns around to face you, you know him, forty years from now, he is you.

You: I know you.
He: Ofcourse you do, son.
You: You are me, aren't you?
He: Yes. I am you.
You: But you, you look strange. Your skin hangs in loose folds, your limbs are nimble, but your eyes, they shower kindness on everywhere it sets its sight. You, are like an ancient Banyan tree, hung low due to the weight of the experience.
He: I am you, my son. I am you, who will always be there, who is constant like the northern star. I am you, who you are destined to be.

The shadow disappears, leaving you to be hit at your face by the salty waves. You approach the last shadow, a very distant one. You wade through the strangely cold water. The figure, one of a child, floats over the sleepless ocean. You try to identify him, but you cannot anymore. He turns around, he faces you.

He: I know you.
You: Yes, even I know you.
He: I am you.
You: Yes, you are me, but who, I mean how, I mean why are you? Your face bears the brunt of innocence, yet you seem to be certain of your identity. Your silhoutte assures one of empathy, yet you are a child. You, are like a forbidden fruit.
He: I am you. I am who you were, who you always have been, but not anymore. For I die today, my job has ended. From today onwards, I am the one who you'll never be able to be.

The voice fades out, and the figure slowly rises and disappears into the space above. You stand helplessly, as you realise the sea rising, slowly rising and submerging you...