Friday, 25 February 2011


In my dreams I am more free to be than I am during conscious hours
During the day I must let myself be guided by ever-changing but repetitious faces, strides
In the conventional waking hours I must hang on to conforming, even though my faith in it's expired
At night I'm free to design a different landscape, moving characters, a vibrant and witty life

I find myself running through, perfectly lush leas and swimming through
Aquamarine rivers on which purple blossoms float
I find myself experiencing all the seasons at once
A tree consisting of three types of flower rushes out of view
As I inspect my environment anew

But it's the people I migrate towards
They are the main attraction
Seeing as I can't get close to them
I must use my imagination

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