I dream, and I dream

I asked for a cappuccino. It came together with a tiny biscuit. The writing on the package gets my attention. I read “I dream, and I dream’ and, in my head, John Lennon’s famous tune echoes. Together with the memory of the first time I heard it. My parents’ kitchen, in which the radio took its role seriously by making humming noises in the background. Ignored or not. Back then, I had no idea about the meaning of those words, so beautifully combined with the melody. My father told a brief history of John Lennon’s life and the sound of his voice convinced me of how sorry he was for the singer’s tragic destiny. And so, for a long time, this song remained synonymous with the sadness of a destiny brutally suppressed. Then, as I got older, I understood the language, and somehow the song seemed even sadder. Maybe because I was not able to separate that tragic destiny from the singer’s optimistic message.

But today, the package didn’t make me think of tragic things. The optimistic message must have won the battle. I have often asked myself if it’s better to dream or not. I continue to think that it is better. And these words that I saw today on this package seem to bring this judgement justice.