Phantasmagorical Retrospect

I had this beautiful dream several months ago, and I wrote it down, but I actually think it's worth sharing. It was during a time when deep down, I think I was really sad, but I didn't realize it. You know how that sometimes is? And I had this dream and woke up breathless.

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I'm at the top of a long set of stone steps cut into the side of a cliff. 

I'm on a landing. In front of me is open space. Lots of it. I am high up, looking over the French countryside. To my left is a locked wooden door.

The sky is dark. 

Above me thunder rumbles. The door stays locked. As I look out at the miles of space in front of me, the first heavy drops spatter the landing at my bare feet.

The rain begins to pour.

I realize, clearer than ever, that nothing is right. But it's okay. I'm completely alone. The dark and rolling sky seems to me as though it is my own soul, as though it was turned into the sky and painted above me. 

And so thunder crashes and buckets of rain keep falling on me and around me, and violins wail somewhere in the background and I sink to my knees and scream at the sky. 

It's the saddest of scenes.

But it's so, so beautiful.