(no subject)
i keep having this dream.
I wake up in a bed that isn't mine, in a house that is unfamiliar to me.
Dirty silk sheets are suffocation blue.
I make tea in my underwear. Wearing skin that doesn't belong to me.
Framed pictures on the walls of people I don't recognize.
At bonfires and banquets I never attended.
Smiling eyes that imply secrets I've never known.
Laughs I've never heard. A life I never lived.
Everything gets very fuzzy; soft, warm tones melt paint from the walls.
A kind of comfort I've never had in reality.
The water boils, and the kettle screams...
I'm thrown back into conciousness; sit straight up in bed.
They say that dreams are your unconscious thoughts at play.
Uncensored truths your conscious mind doesn't have the capacity to accept.
I'm beginning to believe that dreams are a mind's way of being masochistic.
It's a tease. A display of brilliance that can never be fully captured or controlled.
Bizarre sanity this world stifles and rejects in its ignorance to true beauty.
My dreams are trying to tell me something I already know.
Ignorance is bliss. And most things are better off unknown
or forgotten.