Concrete. Hard. Cold. Sheep. Fell.

We will wake you up. Always. You don’t need coffee for that, sweetie.

Morning. Hazy. Pain. Sheep. Clung.

We will walk and guide you in life, sweetie. Always. You don’t need flip flops for that.

Lost. Fog. Hard. Sheep. Searched.

We will feed you. Always, sweetie. Emotionally, physically and spiritually. You don’t need to devour our balcony green for that.

Stigma. Signed. Cut. Sheep. Covered.

We will cover you and shelter you from sun and rain, from fake smiles, icy tears, confusing hazes, and suffocating fogs, always sweetie. You don’t need sunscreen for that.

And now that we have woken you, guided you, fed you and sheltered you, we really got something for you. Something that will stay with you, always, sweetie.

It is red paper. Red like the blood in your veins.

It is square. Square as you sometimes feel you are.

And red squares must be written on. It’s your turn, sweetie, to start writing again. We have missed you..  

And so dream sheep started writing.

She had a lot to say. Every page had a full story on it.

It was a good thing we gave dream sheep more than one paper, because she almost couldn’t stop! So much to say when you have been silent for so long. It felt like catching up on things lost.

If we had square reds we would have also been able to tell how much pleasure this gave us. To see dream sheep write again. Write about what was inside her. Dreams. Sheep.

And when the last story was told, she stopped. Not because the last story was told, but because she stopped.

“If a sheep consists of so many stories, how can sheep ever be whole? What is the summary of a story? The title? But what then is the summary of many stories? Is that who I am? If so, is dream sheep fitting as a title? For I wrote after you awoke me.”

Stories sometimes form a story on their own. The same that letters can exist in a vacuum but can also form words. And words can form sentences. Sentences can form stories. And stories together can form.. well.. let’s just take a look what it comes down to when you start writing..

Dream sheep saw how easy it was to accept multiple stories as real.

You can put them alongside to each other. Next to each other.

And which one you choose, is up to you. They are all you.

“But..” dream sheep said.. “What happens if you decide to take something away? If water forms a sea, is the sea still the sea if you take water out of it? What happens with me if I take one story out of it?”

“Like this one..”

“I mean.. it’s meaningless now, isn’t it?”

Not quite, we said to dream sheep. We promised to guide you, remember? Just watch.

So we did what herders do.

We guided. In ink. In tiny nudges.

You don’t need much to gain a lot.

Dream sheep watched us quietly.

The perfect collaboration between herder and sheep.

And when we were doing this, dream sheep also taught us anew that we can only be herders if she is sheep. We cannot wake if she does not go to sleep. We can not guide if she does not want to follow. We can’t cover if she hides herself. We cannot guide her if she is not a sheep.

“How is this a story?” dream sheep said. “It does not make sense to me at all.”

Confused. Tear. Rebel. Sheep. Lost.

We will find you, sweetie, always. Because this is the story of not only your life. It is the story of our life too, little mäh. Sheep for life.

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