loyd.net

When dreaming I live,
And sometimes die.
But death only matters in the waking world.
Waking is death.

When dreaming I live,
When awake I escape to dreams,
Creating new dreams in my mind.
I rewrite conversations,
Change events,
Rework all the disappointing realities
Into what I wish they were.
Sometimes I dream nightmares, too,
Worrying about what might occur,
Painting reality much worse than it already is.

When dreaming I live,
When reading, watching stories,
I absorb them as part of my being,
I learn what little I know of true life from fiction.

When dreaming I live,
Imagining alternate realities,
Other lives,
Occasionally writing down parts of these dreams.

When dreaming I live;
I am shaped by dreams.
Here I have written of the dreams that most shaped me,
Though there are a thousand others whose mark I bear.
There is no good way to tell a dream.
They are too visual to express in speech;
Too non-linear to tell as a story.
They are difficult to recall,
And seem to shift when you look at them.
Only the most vivid remain,
And these often make no sense.

But I must tell what I can of them—
If there is anything I might have to give the waking world,
It is my dreams.

Dreamscape XVII Dreamscape Do Not Disturb