August 3, 2012

  • Dreams

     

    Dreams.

    I love dreams.

    Not the wishful thinking type, like “It’s my dream to own a penguin and train in him mixed martial arts;” the other ones. The ones that take place at night.  The ones that happen when your subconscious mind and you imagination team up to create a brand new, unexplored world; just for you, just for one night. Where impossible things happen, unrealistic events take place, and unlikely relationships form, and it all seems normal. It is where you are ripped from the world you know and cast into the unknown, where you fall through random times and phases, plummeting through the undiscovered yet familiar realms of your own mind, until you crash land face first into your bed, where you are expected to leave that place behind for the real world. The normal, mundane, complacent, apathetic, real world; where people are killed, governments collapse, and lives are ruined, and it all seems normal. Where adventures are rare, and doing the impossible is frowned upon; mocked, even. Where dreams are stomped out by cruel, harsh reality. Where you are forced to deal with the here and now of things; swept up into the hustle and bustle of what we call life and living. Where, every now and then, as you hurry from one monumental task to the next,  you may pause to remember the night before, and hope that, if by blind luck and divine Providence, you happen to make it through yet another day, when you pillow your head once more, your subconscious and your imagination may merge again and sweep you away. Away from cruel, harsh reality.

    To another world.

    Another dimension:

    Dreams.

     

     

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