There is a mushroom that holds the clue to a dreamland. There is a spider that weaves a web of stories of the dreamland around the mushroom.
I am searching for the mushroom.
But mushrooms live very shortly. Does this mushroom belong to the past, live in current time, or yet to emerge? The legend purportedly keeps the answer by itself.
I am still searching because my present has been misplaced, the future becomes past tense when the place might be right, and the past which I failed to catch up is forever a hintless past.
Until the parallel lines of space and time converge, and become a H, only then we will see each other in the dreamland.