Colour Dream Hagus

Excuse me, excuse me, could you please tell me what time it is? Yes you, if you don’t mind? You want to know why I’m asking? Well, the thing is that I’m slightly inconvenienced at the moment. I don’t even know what hit me. I literally woke up one day and found myself like this. You see, I seem to have gotten my forehead stuck to this panel or frame or something or other and for the life of me I can’t get unstuck and the trouble with not being able to get my forehead off this unbearable metal thing is that I can’t tell what time it is. I find this to be an extraordinarily exasperating position to be caught in, that’s for sure, but you know what the strangest thing is though? It’s that ever since I got stuck here and my eyes and ears and nose are completely stoppered up by this terrible flu that I’ve gotten because of how cold this damn metal frame gets every night I have been having the most astounding dreams. 

In those dreams I see vivid visions of a man with his eyes gently closed in prayer, his is a prayer that never wavers despite him being close to the end, in fact his prayer never wavers because he’s close to the end, submerged up to his shoulders in water, the tide is going to take him and he knows it, his feet are already gone, his body eaten away by the fishes, and yet he keeps on praying. 

And in another dream I see a man, an ordinary man, perfectly nondescript except for the fact that he’s got a very big head and a body so slim that you can barely tell he’s got any arms and legs. And thank goodness for that big head of his otherwise he would hardly be able to hold himself up. The thing is that he’s standing on it. On what? His head! He’s standing on his head, and not only that, he’s also shouting at the top of his lungs: JORDEN! RÄDD! RÄDDA! RÄDDA JORDEN! RÄDDA JORDEN! Beats me. Your guess is as good as mine, really. I don’t have a clue what he’s screeching on about. But all I know is that his shouting has quite literally wiped out everything within a ten-meter radius of him. He’s managed to shout himself to a huge empty space and he’s pleased as punch with that. 

What did you say? Nightmares? Oh yes of course I have my fair share of those as well… there’s one recurring nightmare in which there is the most frightful figure of a boy, not just any boy but one with the most appallingly grotesque proportions. You see he’s taller than a house and he has the pointiest elbows and the pointiest knees that you can imagine, his feet are sheathed in the most unnaturally large pair of shoes and his hands are clothed in enormous white gloves that are most definitely hiding the most terrifying pair of claws. In my nightmares he’s always striding along with no regard for anything or anyone, his long nose is up in the air and everybody around him is screaming and throwing stones at him but nothing deters that monstrous giant, the town folks are as tiny as ants compared to the gigantic boy and I hear them howling in vain about how he doesn’t belong in their town and I hear the ghost of Jiminy Cricket crying and the old white man with his old white beard is crying and the boy lifts his five-ton foot over the tiny town folks, they’re all in the shadow of his foot and I wake up screaming as he brings it down, crushing every single last one of them… it’s terrifying, I’ve had the same nightmare so many times and I always wake up in a mess, sweating and screaming and crying, it’s embarrassing really, I would give anything to stop that giant boy, I just have no idea how… should I arm those tiny townspeople with hammers? But he’d just blow them away like straw in the wind… or maybe I could give them some string to tie him up, but where would I find string that is strong enough to restrain something like him, it’s hopeless I tell you, utterly hopeless… sigh… I’m telling you I’m desperate enough to even try giving that boy a chair just so that he would quit the nasty business of stomping on everybody for at least a moment… oh well… like I say, it’s hopeless, the people of the town in my dreams are doomed to their fate, just as I seem to be accursed and doomed to mine. It’s an extraordinarily exasperating position to be in, especially when there’s something at the back of my mind that I know needs my attention and for the life of me I can’t seem to remember because here I am with my head pressed to something quite sharp that’s definitely going to leave a horrible wrinkle… ah it’s hopeless… it hasn’t always been like this for me you know, I used to be at fashion shows every weekend, the best dealers in New York and DC were ringing my phone off the hook every minute of the day, the galleries in Miami were sending me invites left right and centre to parties and fairs and what not, Dubai loved all two hundred kilograms of me, Stockholm adored my silicon robes, and Hungary was always ravenous for more, but look at me now… all of life is but a dream, and the dreamer himself is a mere figment of the overheated imagination… 

Yes, my dear, I know, you’ve got to be on your way… it’s a terrible thing not being able to see what time it is, I really must apologise for keeping you so long. You have been so kind to stay for as long as you have to talk to me, it has been so lonely here you see, you’ve done such good for me… I guess it’s goodbye for now. Please do send your mother my fondest regards and give your kids a big old bear hug from Uncle Hagus when you get home, won’t you? Yes indeed, that’s my name, Hagus. Sarco P. Hagus. Goodbye now… get home safe… promise you’ll bring the little ones to come see me sometime? Oh you are such a dear… such a dear…