Dreams.

I remember
a dream I had the other night.
I wonder what the guy on the bench dreams. About.
I've had many dreams.
Some have come true.
Most are just dreams.
Day dreams.
The dream that came to my mind
when I saw this guy asleep on the bench
is a night dream.
A nightmare.
I don't remember much of my dreams.
Normally.
If I do, they turn out to be very flaky.
Impossible. Just dreams.
Perhaps symbols.
If every dream means something then I've never figured out what.
Although, my mistakes in life have given me bad dreams.
But at that point it seems a bit too late to try figure out the meaning.
Delayed dreams. They should have come first. As warnings.
The dream that came to my mind when I saw the guy asleep on the bench
had an end.
I was followed by somebody that tried to kill me.
I saw his face. He didn't hide. It's nobody that I know.
Nobody from my childhood.
Nobody that have made me harm in the past.
Nobody that I may have harmed.
He tries to shoot me. Stab me. Strangle me. Hit me with baseball bats and iron bars.
Every time he attacks I counter and kill him.
But he comes back. He can't die.
It's like the Terminator. Arnold's finest role.
He keeps coming back.
Then somehow – that part is a bit blurry – I manage to drain all life out of this thing.
It disintegrates. A puddle of water.
Where it transforms into a clockwork.
A clockwork that no longer works.
?
The only thing I know is
that it's the only time I ever remembered a dream
that came
to an
end.