what?
i have no idea...
                                     i woke up...

               alleviated from
all my previous
melancholy...

all i did was drink 70cl
of whiskey,
had a beer while
i walked back
from the supermarket
and...

ate a white bun,
some beans
and the leftovers
of a curry
sauce...

perhaps i should
cite...
the old testament
joseph...
or h. p. lovecraft...

but, for once!
even michel de montaigne's
eloquence
surrounding
his melancholy
would not aid me...

perhaps, for once...
i felt liberated from
the looming
shadow of
                      herr censor
of the current zeitgeist...
in england,
of all places...

   and bohemian
rhapsody is... released...
now?! of all times?
no sorry...

or the fact that i was
born about 5 hours'
worth of a coach drive
from the words
arbeit macht frei?

i don't know...
but today, i woke up...
happy...
why?

    i had the most "banal"
dreams!
i can't remember the last
time i experienced
this phenomenon!

    i... dreamt!
now i can posit an explanation
as to why i succumb
to a melancholic
disposition...
      my inability to dream
with, what this one night
illuminated me with -
a desirable frequence...

for... to sleep without
dreaming,
is like dying every single
night, and standing
in some awkward Lazarus
pose, intimidated
and subsequently intimidating:

why?!

which begs the question:
herr doktor... Freud:
can you interpret
my inability to dream?
  or is there a joke in all of this...
that i am a closet homosexual
that...
will suddenly dream
every single night...
   provided...
i get my "toilet" unblocked?

my melancholic / stoic
sense of humor is still there...
mingling... fermenting...
but...

            i just can't remember
the last time i woke up...
and... was not exhausted
back into a life that is also
composed of a little
more than a brain in a pickle
jar...

               like... i have a heart?
wow!
      dreams...
               dreams....
perhaps h. p. lovecraft
dreamt too easily,
perhaps dreams,
for the old testament joseph
were a blessing & a curse...

**** me, even shakespeare!
good dreams, bad dreams...
whatever...
                    just any sort
of dreams!

otherwise these oratory,
grand symphonic orbs
   of nomadic vacuums
pulsating with anti-matter
while perpetually hiding
a conspiracy of sorts...
    like a riddle inside
the head of either Charon
or Thanatos...

my melancholy...
i can pin-point it now...
    it is due to being:
dream-starved!
- yeah... and how the hell
am i supposed to...
control, or not control
my ability or inability
to dream?!

drink the whiskey,
walk the beer,
eat a curry sauce with
some green beans
and a bun every night?

spectacular...
               i think i'll savor
this good mood for today...
even with the pristine
Earl Grey of the English
skies of Febuary...

      i finally know...
              it seems: i am closer
to paying my "debt".