Ah... The soundtrack to Phantom the musical is perfect for my mood as of now... especially the second track where Christine is singing on the Paris streets. The more I read upon that era in human history, the more I become fascinated with the victorian era at the middle of the 19th century. Mainly, I'm fascinated how the life of excess was like. The opera, the grand dance ballrooms, the elegant costumes, the exquisite architecture... it's hard to explain, but even the ideas of the era entrance me. Sure, I could do without the disease and pestulance, but regardless... I find things out of my time very enchanting. It's part of my escapist tactics when I see the gutters of this city. Yes, it disturbs me that much.

I had another dream while I slept in the afternoon. This time, I was sitting on a stone bench in a lush green garden with a great angel fountain infront of me, while in the back was a large atrium. I was talking/singing to the angel excerpts from Puccini's La Boheme and he would sing back to me. Sometime while we talked, the water spilling from the jug he held in his arm began dropping rose petals of yellow and pink, which floated on the watery surface below.

Next, I found myself in a raincoat with an umbrella stripped of cloth so that it looked like a metallic spider. The hallway I was walking down resembled some sort of a museum, but all the statues appeared to be fragments of broken Greco-Roman styles. A series of paintings hung above each pedastel showed me as I progressed towards the end of the hallway. When I opened the great doors at the end, there was my fallen angel sitting on a desk from my school. He was reading from a small copy of Dante's Inferno in italian. Then I walked over and nuzzled his neck. He sighed and said "kiss me before you kill me."

Funny thing is, I remember everything of these dreams, save the actual face of my fallen angel... Perhaps I shall use this in one of my pictures, for as Paul pointed out, dreams have always been linked to artists as a creative force in their art.

Ah... you know a song is good when it feels like your soul is pulling out of your body in the direction of that sound... I feel like writing poems for two people to recite again.