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Rated: E · Other · Experience · #1159284
This is about more dreams of mine. I'm constantly dreaming...
Whisk me away into another world she dreamed. She longed to live in a far off land she only read about in books. She dreamed of escape from this monotonous existence she called life. She hides behind school and books and daydreams the daylight hours away. At night her world comes alive, myth becomes truth and truth becomes myth. Things that stir in the shadows come out to play, while she dreams the night away. This is her escape, her freedom, her joy in life. She reads a book and the people illuminate on the page for her. She dreams she was special, that there was some spark about her. If that spark would only light then her life would be magical. But that spark remains unlit and when the alarm clock rings she is forced to face reality.

What is reality anyway? Who is to say that our reality isn't just someone elses dream. Our life, our existence, could just be figments of someone elses mind. There she goes dreaming again. Always the dreamer. She dreams because she is scared of what we call reality, she calls it Hell. Her dreams give her hope that there is something out there. Something unseen and divine. Whether it is a creature that stirs in the shadows or an angel that comes alive in the light, only her dreams will tell her.
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