Where are you?

Writing

After your dreams have died away and morning isn’t morning, where are you? Trapped within some false reality? That’s what my existence has felt like lately, the days and nights blur slowly together the line between reality and dream has slowly been cut by my mentality. A line that was made plain and clear as I grew up, made clear with the blunt explanations of the imaginary things that we are all made to perceive as real as we are young. The line became clear as we began to realize that there really was no woman with a shimmering blouse upon her tiny shoulders with wings that sprouted forth and she placed money in trade for your lost tooth. The line is simply crossed by our imaginations and dreams. We fall into a warm embrace of the things we desire and the world that we desire as well. Dreams consisting of the lusts and passions that we want filled with the faces of the ones we have lost and forgotten. Your eyes close and the world around you darkens as your mind awakens into a theater full of the memories and even moments you want to happen or just desire to.

So, I ask again. After your dreams have died away and morning isn’t morning, where are you?

 

 

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