Dreams 2

Sunday, January 18
I sit and stare at all before me, contemplate and wonder. What does it mean? It doesn't actually matter, I should just put my head down and flow through as I ought.

But no! I shant!

I ought to bite at the hook, do what I wish and when I wish it, grab this world and make it do my bidding! But is that sane? Possible? I really don't think so.

However, a man can dream....and I do dream--and life is so lengthily short. Crying has three things--Sickness, sadness, and utter joy. I only want to experience latter yet I seems to thrive on the former !.

It's far past that, and have seen my entire existence on this confusing ball of rock. I look at the stars in the sky and wonder--

has someone called me back to the real world, the world I know, no dreams, just work.

Work. However, I constantly gaze back, gaze back to the dreamworld, gaze back to what I wish and want so dearly. However, time has told that the unattainable is within perfect reach, dreams are literally paralyzing, so I must tread softly in this unimaginably strange place.

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