I’ve Spent My Whole Life in a Dream, But I Don’t Give Two Shits

Here is some seriously artsy-fartsy stuff, for those who are into that sort of thing.  I must give song credit in the video to the band Hoover, the song, “The Lurid Traversal of Route 7”.

One
very hot summer, I remember, we spent most of it down by the Spring, its clear
frigid water a haven. Water bugs danced on it.
The sun made hazy repeating patterns in the air (repeating patterns) and
swept us up in its geometricity.  We
threw rocks that made ripples, splashes, chased cranes, built dams that lasted
as long as a breath.  There were dreams
in the air for the taking, wisps, unfathomables.  It got so I couldn’t tell where the real
ended and the not-real began, where the waking ended and the not-waking began,
where the is turned into the not.  Once for
a moment years later and a great distance away I slipped back into that summer
without trying and was there with a slew of people I used to love but didn’t
love anymore, saw them bathing in that Spring, splashing, cavorting, concentric
circles (concentric circles) like pebbles thrown, the feathers of birds, the slightest things
imaginable.  I’ve lived my whole life in
a dream, but I don’t give two shits