ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Strange Dreams
I keep having these odd dreams. They feel like they are real. As though I were actually there. Shimmers of something. In the corner of my eye it flashes. I don't know what it is. I feel like something is coming. In my head it seems closer and closer every night. What is coming? I don't know. A choice perhaps? A decision on which my whole life will stand.
A man standing on a stool, ready to fall over. Two men start, Punches, Kicks, soon an all out brawl. Erupting like a volcano's magma. Spreading through the room. Bottles fly and words are thrown. Heated debates sit in the still-running-microwave.
Blundering around like awkward disabled children. Our knees crack and backs break. Old age defiles our skin like the poisons we inject into it. The facade of human rage and jealousy.
A different mask for every one. A greedy grin, a heroic hurrah, a sly sleeve, a prideful poet, an artistic awe. Puzzle pieces not quite fitting, son't worry, the Mechanic will fix it for you by pounding them till they fit. a stranger's wonderful dream, a CEO's nightmares.
Different lies. Broken truths, half promises, destroying trust in all of our =hearts. when can it end? When can we change for a better life, a better world never. History is written by the victor. so look first to those that are told what to teach, and to them that give instruction to the educators. there is no war, it's all in my head.
My brain a lonely little Tardis. Burning up as the beginning and ending of time. it all burns. burning at the same time, the same instant. All of time and space, happening all together, all in the same way. Wibbily wobbly timey wimey. a message in a dream, Something is coming.
I keep having these odd dreams. They feel like they are real. As though I were actually there. Shimmers of something. In the corner of my eye it flashes. I don't know what it is. I feel like something is coming. In my head it seems closer and closer every night. What is coming? I don't know. A choice perhaps? A decision on which my whole life will stand.
A man standing on a stool, ready to fall over. Two men start, Punches, Kicks, soon an all out brawl. Erupting like a volcano's magma. Spreading through the room. Bottles fly and words are thrown. Heated debates sit in the still-running-microwave.
Blundering around like awkward disabled children. Our knees crack and backs break. Old age defiles our skin like the poisons we inject into it. The facade of human rage and jealousy.
A different mask for every one. A greedy grin, a heroic hurrah, a sly sleeve, a prideful poet, an artistic awe. Puzzle pieces not quite fitting, son't worry, the Mechanic will fix it for you by pounding them till they fit. a stranger's wonderful dream, a CEO's nightmares.
Different lies. Broken truths, half promises, destroying trust in all of our =hearts. when can it end? When can we change for a better life, a better world never. History is written by the victor. so look first to those that are told what to teach, and to them that give instruction to the educators. there is no war, it's all in my head.
My brain a lonely little Tardis. Burning up as the beginning and ending of time. it all burns. burning at the same time, the same instant. All of time and space, happening all together, all in the same way. Wibbily wobbly timey wimey. a message in a dream, Something is coming.
it's a lot shorter than it looks on the notepad of my ipod...
© 2013 - 2024 my-emo-life
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In