Can I use an old word?

I often dream of situations I’ve never experienced and probably would never know-how in my life but they keep recapping and to my inner scruples they try to discover a meaning for themselves. Why do I keep dreaming of a multi-tiered oil lamp, flowers, incense sticks, a conch shell and an unfamiliar girl running on the temple above the rocks and she disappears before I see her face. I could scent the sea, feel the wind and the sound of waves hitting the rocks. Why do I end up remembering this every time I lose myself to a different consciousness?

My boogie man with his long face painted green and sharp facial features which made him striking, habitually performed in my dreams a historic drama and whispered proverbs I’m most scared of. I don’t know how exactly he knew what I was thinking that infuriated week or an irrational evening. He often took me to bamboo groves where my accustomed cuckoos sang and the music echoed with the rhythmic beats of the falling spring across the cave. 

I remember the green water, the wooden wall with an unknown wild creeper and the algae kissing cement steps to the pond. I remember the lovely feet with silver anklets making an equally beautiful and bloodcurdling noise as she walked and the half wet silk border of her long skirt clasping to her ideal feet. I remember her walking to the petrifying backyard behind the jack fruit grove and peeping through the broken bricks to catch a glimpse of the boy across the pond who counted stars with her every night.

I cannot find a new word to explain my search of an authentic being brought by a savage poison. The lust for a lost beginning…Can I use an old word? My urkraft!

Hey old chap! Wait!