Tanner Ulrich

The Final Dreamer

There are many things I dream of when the stars kiss the night sky, and I listen softly to murmurs in the foregone and yet to be conceived visions which eclipse my mind as it begins to wander futher. It seems always strange to me, the dream from which I awake every evening when I set unto the astral landscapes, and to which I return reluctantly every morn. No lesser beauty exists here than the most vivid of which I have dreamed, and yet still some quality eludes me, some faculty of perception which lends to my memories of those other places a kind of urgent, augmented, ethereal mysteriousness. Truly, it were as though the spaces through which I travel in those times are somehow impulsed by the sensibilities of the trickster or the magician, the laughing, coalescent spiral of an attenuated sort of reason, a meaning or purpose or punchline to some grand piece of humor.