Sunday, March 27, 2011

The D Chronicles Vol 1 - (Men): Dreamer


When Quentin Warls awoke on Sunday morning he couldn’t believe his eyes. On this day it became completely clear that it wasn’t any ordinary day. In fact it happened to be one of the few times he just sat back in wonder at the world.

You have to understand that Quentin Warls isn’t an interesting man. In fact he just the opposite of interesting if there is such a thing. There were no bells, whistle or hoops that happened when he walked. There was certainly no fantastic soundtrack to accompany his less than spectacular life. None.

On this Sunday morning when nothing was what it once seemed Quentin heard the music and found that his step had a bounce. When his step bounced the whole world danced around him. The people moved alongside him without thinking twice. The acrobatics of daily living seem to swim with a new energy that matched the feeling Quentin felt inside.

It was like he controlled it all.

Quentin Warls truly wasn’t an extraordinary man. Not at all. Aside from being completely uninteresting he absolutely lacked the essential capacity to be unpredictable. For most people this might seem like a dream in itself. Because the idea of knowing what could or would happen moment to moment has a reassuring quality. Quentin took this reassurance for granted in his life. He hadn’t thought of what life could offer him by change until this very different Sunday where everything seemed to change with a shift of his thoughts.

That morning hadn’t gone forward quite like any other. The minute he stepped out bed and moved toward his fate things went remarkably how he thought they should. He thought his favorite shoes that had been missing for a month were waiting by the door so they were. He couldn’t remember going to the store for groceries the last night or any other, but somehow it seemed like his cupboards should be stocked with fresh food and they simply were. As he continued everything unfolded more and more like he thought it should. Although he was running thirteen minutes behind this morning, Quentin believed that he would make it to work. Although something in his mind told him it wouldn’t be necessary for him to go to work today. So he decided not to.

Walking down Seventh Avenue and making a left on Grand street he couldn’t quite get a tune out of his mind. The same hum of a distinct melody kept both of his feet tapping. It was one of those tunes that deep down you know the rest of the world will understand because it’s the soundtrack you’re moving along to. And with feeling Quentin Warls begin to think, “today, yes today is the day I think that everyone should hear this song I have in my head.” Without much more thought given a man and woman spin and circle around in harmony. The bass line kicks and the water man drums an empty bottle in unison. Slowly and surely the streets around him come to vivid life with song and dance. Everything seemed to be exactly the way he imagined it to be.

Somewhere past Grand St. and Ninth Quentin desired a much brighter landscape to dream against. A bluer sky and greener grasses instead of gray smog and parking garages. As if nothing the din melted away leaving only his song with the serene view of his newly painted world.

The further and more vividly he thought the bigger and better the picture around him became. The people were happy, the air was fresh and the problems of the world seemed to be far away.

Quentin watched the sky change colors and the people change partners many times over before changing his tune.

 It was late afternoon when he felt his mood shift and the song end. It was as though his mind wandered. All around him he saw the people scatter and grow scarce. The world around him began to feel isolated and alone. When the strangers passed him it wasn’t by chance whether they said hello or nothing at all. Every smile or frown seemed to match his expression.

Quentin thought to himself, “What a strange place this is. A strange world. It’s as though I control the people. It’s as if they live and breathe because I choose it. I must be dreaming. A dream that lives beyond my mind.”

And when Quentin Warls thought about it, he realized that the world could be a happy place, simply with a thought. Along with that realization came an understanding. With the good there could be bad. A happy place could easily become quite unhappy with a simple thought.

With that thinking something changed.
Quentin looked over to the nearest isolated person and thought “Die.”

Down went the stranger. A man Quentin had never seen before sank straight to his knees and grabbed his chest. A man without a name or face that was recognizable collapsed before Quentin Warls had time to change his mind.

By force of thought he dropped another stranger and another. Quentin had found a new use for his mind. He could decide what went or stayed. Who lived or died. The world was no longer fated or left to destiny. It was up to him.

Before too long he was approached by a young man.
Quentin asked him. “What do you want? To sing. To dance? Or to die?”
“To be.” replied the young man. “What more is there?”
“You must decide. Or I will choose for you.”
“What if it will make me unhappy? Who are you to choose?”
“I control you and this entire world. This world is my dream as I choose it. And those are your choices.”
“Prove this.” says the young man.
“See,” says Quentin and he points at the dancers, the delighters, and the dead. “They are, because I choose it.”
The young man asked him why he persists in these actions as he's completely fixated by the senseless deaths.
“Why? Because I can. This is my world. They are happy or they are not here. It is only bad as you see it.”
“And what of my world? Where is my world of choosing?”
“Your world? It’s waiting for you to decide. For now, this is mine. What will it be?”
“Stay or go? Go. I’ll take my chances. Dead is better than controlled and unhappy.”
“Have it your way…”

Quentin Warls granted the man his peace and kept going. Perhaps there would be others that saw things as he. Imagined or not, there could be no denying that others could see things differently. There would be unhappiness and in his dream that could not do. He thought this is perfection as I chose, why allow for anything less than that and saw fit to continue on with his actions. Some danced, some drifted, others dipped, dived and delighted. Quentin simply kept moving ahead with a whole new song.

As evening approached Quentin grew quite unsettled with wonder. He knew that the extraordinary day would end and perhaps in doing so end his dream. Just like he had made changes, the world could vanish with no more than a thought. The world the people including him could all be over in the blink of an eye. For in his wonder he came to realize the bigger picture and it was nothing more than a dream. A dream that he controlled including how it ended.

Dreamers. The dream. You control your own world. Not the people in it. Although the power of suggestion is quite amazing. And I love it. A little hint about dreaming… happy people are simply happy. You are happy or you are not. You choose to be. Like a light switch. On or off. Really. Wanting to say more, give more, etc… however the last two days have been a little hijacked by life. What can you do? Go along for the ride. Enjoy. kisses. m.

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