I had a crazy dream the other day.
…and I have the feeling its not the first time I dream of that white room. It was an objective space, you couldn’t really feel it nor even enter it though you were right in it. Just as you would have a blank piece of paper and no words on it, this white room was difficult to look at after a while.
In this room there were people, well I think there were people, but they didnt feel like people. For some reason you could sense that their spirits had been bleached of their natural colours, that the whiteness of the room had affected their humanity. Its just hard to describe the ambient, when its so detached from the sensorial. You move in it but you somewhat don’t feel in it, though you remain affected by it, mystery!
In what seemed more like a trance, I started talking to one of the ‘people’, but the words were slow and the voices distant. The important part of the dream comes when I see this vivid-green bucket of paint and tears of joy come to my eyes, thats the hope, thats the joy I didn’t know I was looking for. I pick up the bucket and I splash the paint all over the wall. Then more paint appears, yellow and red, then blue and gold… And as paint inundates the walls, the anxiety of that humanity-depleting space vanishes. Vanishes, and I feel clean and at home.
I guess that humanity always win at the end.