chronic nightmares
I am a dreamer, but not the kind you're thinking of. These
dreams do not chase the infinite charms of the universe, they do not seek to
uncover more splendour beyond our vision although they exceed the realities I
am accustomed to. These dreams encompass unique powers capable of transporting
you to other-worldly spaces that still
somehow possess an overwhelming familiarity despite simultaneously being so
alien. These dreams distort what you think you know holding an illusory mirror
up against your existence, commanding you to look at the crooked reflection
that is you and is not. The things I experience within them I feel too human
handle. Each night the light in my eyes dims a little more. The weight of this
lingering sense of wrongness swells as I shrink, like a parasite is crawling within
my mind and stealing strength at my souls expense. This world is flowing with undercurrents
of darkness that is unconsciously overlooked in the scurry of a frantic race
towards nothing, attempting to cram each moment with distraction, remaining
occupied and oblivious. But in sleep, I am alone and I am vulnerable. I am submerged
in a black ocean that reaches the shadowed corners of my memories and fills the
crevices in the ugliest parts of my imagination, taunting me with my deepest
fears of the known and the unknown. These waves know me. And the menacing energy they leave behind is unshakable,
it stains my face with hopelessness.
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