“(THEORETICAL) DESPAIR” by Gnolan

There is a delicate distinguishing line between my dreams and nightmares. They share many commonalities, and the brushstrokes that flood my mind are almost the same. It is in the detail that the canvas is held together or falls apart; one wrong speck of paint here or there can beautify or beastify a lifetime’s masterpiece. It’s like those dreams where your mind paints a place and a people brimming with beauty, bringing your loved ones to life—but without heads, forgetting a blob of paint over the body where the head would be. It’s like living in a dream where slowly the paint dries and crumbles away, revealing skeleton interiors of bodies, or tainting the sky ablood-red where once it was a soft sunset pink. Often the nightmare begins at the point of no return, at a moment when you can’t rouse yourself to wakefulness even as you feel thedream morphing into something darker.

They say our dreams are the chronicles of our sub-consciousness. They reveal our unspoken fears, our deepest desires, or our neglected troubles. They steal upon us like phantoms, and as such they manacle our minds in their invisible arms, and thrive upon our restless slumber. They offer us adouble life, cursing and fascinating us with a surreal existence.

Until I wake and thank God for another day in a normal, albeit haunted, reality.

~Angreek87