Dream a Little Dream of Me


Why are you looking at me all inviting, huh? 

I am not sure I like watermelon that much, I think to myself. But it is just there. Not moving. Cracked in two. Almost ignoring me. An unexpected desire runs through my entire body. I want to dig my fingers deep into it until they tear it apart. Feel its soft flesh breaking down for me. I want to grab it all, piece by piece. Not with my fingers but with my entire hand. To hold them tightly. Not to let them go. To feel them in the entire surface of my skin. 

It will cool me down, I know. It will. It will relax me, I know it will. Like a starving animal I bring it closer to my mouth. I can smell it now. I want to scream. The anticipation is torturing me. It’s the best kind of torture. I would now normally spend time smelling it, feeling it in my hands, extend the pleasure. But I can’t wait anymore. I need it and I need it now. I dig my teeth into it. If it was a man’s arm it would be bleeding badly. Juices are now dripping down my chin and neck. My hands are sticky. There are seeds that don’t allow me to swallow it all in one go. But I don’t care. I greedily bite more and more and more. My mouth is full and only then I slowly begin to relax.


I start tasting it. Its spongy texture is felt by my tongue. My mouth is cool, refreshed, bright. I slow down. It’s in my mouth now, it won’t go anywhere. It’s mine and only mine. Well, this bite anyways. But what about after I swallow it? My mind is running towards a place of uncertainty. Will there be more? How much more? When? For how long? I don’t want to go there. I focus on the juices that are now taking over in my mouth. They are sweet and bright, like baby pink but with sparkles. They take me down a pink cotton candy rabbit hole. Like fucking rainbows, whatever that means. Maybe the beauty in rainbows is that they are rare. Maybe it is that they don’t last long. Maybe is it that you first need heavy rain for them to appear. Often, even rain combined with sunshine. This piece of watermelon in my mouth is that. Colours and sparkles and rainbows and bright light after the rain. I chew it and I twirl, like a girl in a pink sparkly tutu. In the beginning I didn’t want to admit that there is more to its taste for me. You know, these foods, they are so superficial in their nature sometimes. It’s just food, it’s…disposable. But alas, as I chew I am flown back to my innocent childhood summers of unadulterated happiness. 

But aouch. I come across the seeds. Its seeds make me feel uncomfortable. They interrupt my pleasure. They interrupt my flow, my daydreaming. They are like arrows that pierce my rainbows. Like the dark thoughts in my head. I have to spit them out or swallow them. Sometimes it’s good to take them in, give them space. They are after all part of the watermelon. Surely they serve a purpose. Maybe they are there to slow me down. You know, so that I don’t eat the entire watermelon in one go. Maybe they are there to show me that life is not only rainbows everywhere. This time I spit them out making loud noises. I don’t care where they go, as long as they are away from me. I know how to handle them now. 

I chew happily moving my tongue and making loud inappropriate noises while spitting out the seeds. I’m 10 years old again and it’s summer. I’m completely free and all there is in the world is wet sand and a piece of watermelon that’s bigger than both my hands. I do nothing else but eat it greedily. I do not have a single worry in the world. Everything else disappears and it’s just me and its sweet pink taste. I am giggling. I am happy and calm. If only this could last forever. But how long is forever? Ah, we know, sometimes just one second. The second that it takes for me to swallow the last juices from my piece of watermelon. 

All there is left now is the juice in my hands and face. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and lick it melancholically. The rainbows are fading. But somehow the world around me is now brighter. Maybe I should just go on and say it. Watermelon could be my favourite thing these days.  

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