(no subject)
I once had a dream, of burgoning complexities, where I was forced to find my soul. This search took me to many dark places, despite ones thinking that a soul should be bathed in light. It becomes strange, when you're placed inside out, your inside trying to get in, and your outside trying to get out. Within the dream I start to wonder, when my soul is found, where do I place it? Perhaps my soul is better left alone, in dark and dreary places, where it does the least harm. Though what, I go on, will become of me, a souless empty shell perchance? So as I walk forward, considerations of a void-filled body run through my head, my walk turns into a run, then my run turns into a sprint, until I finally grasp my soul with all my power, and stand there staring deep into it. I forcefully shove it into my heart, realising tragically that it will not fit. In despiration I hold it as close as I can to my body, trying to make it flow into me. I feel, as some seeps in, a sense of relief, yet as if in lament, it begins to rise out of my reach. The comfort set by it, just enough to hold me steady. As I walk away my soul illuminates a path just bright enough for me to follow. My search over, I begin to wonder about success and failure, whether my quest was truly in vain. My soul, floating like a distant star, slowly fades behind me. Tears slowly drowing my mind because they can find no escape. Day becomes eternal night reminiscent of the dark filled universe, thinking, is then my life more real, or am I simply trapped within the box looking out. Though without its original socially believed intention of usage, I smile.