(no subject)
i dreamed that i slept and i actually dreamed.
once again i wake up in a cold sweat, in a house that's kept at eighty degrees fahrenheit. this constant state of anxiety has taken a toll on me in recent weeks. my face has paled like a full moon, my eyes have sunken further into cavernous eye sockets. my jeans fall further off my hips with each stumbled step, belts are futile here.
simply put, i don't sleep alone. i just have terrible dreams i can hardly wake myself from. they're filled with the worst things that could ever happen to me or the ones i love. the most recent one that's plagued my r.e.m. cycles has been the most harrowing.
i'm laying in a hospital bed, being told by a doctor that she didn't make it through the operation. apparently we'd been in a car accident that involved a semi and a few other cars on the interstate. he says, "i know this is a dream, son. you know this is a dream. the only thing is, when you wake up, she'll be gone. for real, and for good." at that moment i'm clawing at all the tubes in my wrists, and falling to the cold tile floor. pulling myself along until i get to the door, and then i wake up.
i used to believe that you could analyze your dreams, i just don't know how to analyze a living nightmare.
once again i wake up in a cold sweat, in a house that's kept at eighty degrees fahrenheit. this constant state of anxiety has taken a toll on me in recent weeks. my face has paled like a full moon, my eyes have sunken further into cavernous eye sockets. my jeans fall further off my hips with each stumbled step, belts are futile here.
simply put, i don't sleep alone. i just have terrible dreams i can hardly wake myself from. they're filled with the worst things that could ever happen to me or the ones i love. the most recent one that's plagued my r.e.m. cycles has been the most harrowing.
i'm laying in a hospital bed, being told by a doctor that she didn't make it through the operation. apparently we'd been in a car accident that involved a semi and a few other cars on the interstate. he says, "i know this is a dream, son. you know this is a dream. the only thing is, when you wake up, she'll be gone. for real, and for good." at that moment i'm clawing at all the tubes in my wrists, and falling to the cold tile floor. pulling myself along until i get to the door, and then i wake up.
i used to believe that you could analyze your dreams, i just don't know how to analyze a living nightmare.