top of page

Most dreams don’t come true.

A blessing, really.


Often I find they are simply

illogical

random

bizarre

manifestations of the subconscious

That have no bearing of reality


Merely works of the brain

as it sorts away memories collected in the waking day

Those gossamer strands of time weaved into the elaborate web of the mind,

making home among the ridges of sulci and fissures in the cortex


At night I’m left to wander

through the labyrinth of deep, tangled folds

Nothing but a visitor of my own mind–

A stranger lost in an unfamiliar world which they have created



Recent Posts

See All

Divine Glimpses: A Child's Journey

https://www.instagram.com/immywrites_/ When I was a child, I saw God I saw Him, but it wasn't through my eyes I heard Him. but His voice never entered my ears I touched Him but never by my skin I was

The Wavelength of a Human called Lola

My collection encourages those to love the pain endured by heartbreak and explores the journey from a personal perspective/ The night you left I remember the night it happened I don't even think you r

My Roots Dunked Zeep

I met her during an overwhelming winter The gloom of Demeter exhibited With frigid frosted ground And unsparing winter wind Yet her eyes gleaming and mellow Causing my admiration to spurt out And when

コメント


bottom of page