Boppy's dream

Boppy was flying in his dream. It was an incredible sensation. Boppy's dreams rarely appear in three-dimension, usually four, but tonight was quite different indeed. In fact, tonight wasn't even a night. Nor a day. What was interesting wasn't the time of day, but rather his dream. In the three-dimensional world, Boppy was a flying dot. A rather spherical dot to be exact. If we were to paste the scene onto a canvas, we'll see a sheet of light sky blue with cotton puffy clouds sprayed around to a comforting measure and a black dot. Yes, that black dot is Boppy, little Boppy, who's existence seem puny compared to the entity of his dreamworld. He liked flying. Sometimes he chose to glide in a horizontal path, sometimes accelerating vertically, sometimes just gradually ascending in a diagonal fashion. However small he may be, his imaginations are definitely much much bigger than his outward frame. Warm-up is over. Like a graceful swan, Boppy started weaving creaves of air around him, streaming around the clouds quite thoughtfully, yet in a seemingly random manner. The cool air caressed his sphere smoothly, soothing him, almost making him dream within a dream. Whistle, whistle, whistle. Faster he goes, and the air starts to whistle. Boppy would have smiled if he could. Acceleration was perhaps a fitting word to describe the current experience. He swerved in, and swerved out, and slowly the clouds changed their pattern. Mystical and awe-inspiring, wavering surely, reforming and deforming, those disembodied coagulations changed their form. Soon, they merged into one. Boppy, rather cheeky-faced now, spun around it. Oh, if we could paste in that scene onto a canvas, how intriguing it would have been. Light blue sky with a glossy black funnel, and hints of cloudy texture brimming in the centre. Boppy was moving too fast, too fast definitely. No one could see that little black dot. He has became a plane, apparently. He was happy. He woke up. He lay in bed for awhile. Abrubt ending to a dream, he thought. How was he to know that he, Boppy the dot, was only dreaming within a dream. He will realise someday that he was, but only when he wakes up. Till then, dream on Boppy.

Boppy the dot

Once upon a time, there was a little dot called Boppy. He exists in time and moves in time the way we move in space. One day he was bored of sleeping in bed. Rubbing his furry and smooth body together, Boppy walked about the time room. His thoughts were somewhere in the 5th dimension, constantly wondering and straying in the possibility of impossibilities. His round, perfectly round body, made ripples in space as he traversed in circles, his body lost in time and his mind lost in thought, his eyes darting around at the changing fabric of space upon time. He looked at colours and movements, occasionally seeing even sounds vibrating, sometimes waver, or dancing their silent sonnets in perfect rhythm. He marked a water splash somewhere in the distance, the corner of the room, which turned into a turret, cold and metal. A flower petal. Finally a rain drop. Things change, he noted. Straying eyes and furry smooth walls. He was back to where he started. Keeping his eyes on the clock, he continued pacing. It was amusing to see the two hands move back and forth like a metronome, a partner to his steps. He moved forward, and the metronome raced quickly, slowing down, and reversing as he steps back. Now he was the metronome and the clock was just a mere follower. Gentle smile. Silent steps. And he stops moving. Boppy hops back into bed. His dreams are much more, much more colourful than what he sees, yet what he sees are just dreams of reality. When he wakes up, he will find a world of much more, much more than dreams and imagination. For his dream to end, he must first start it... and so he fell asleep and flew.