Cord

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

You can call it what you wish. You can call it a nightmare, a night terror, insomnia, even something as simple as a "bad dream." You can play to fool and ignore their messages, blind to the facts that have been created by your mind. You can jolt awake while the moon has reached its peak and be drenched in sweat as you relieve the horrors. You can cry to your mothers about the terrible things you made with your mind. You can still see the faces of the monsters that tantalized you while you slept, and yet you refuse to admit they mean something more.

I call them visions.

They're the darkest parts of us. A message sent from a little corner of our heart that wishes the worst. Blackened and bleeding, that corner of your heart is at bay until your mind has shut off and nothing can tell it to stand back. It grows until it grabs hold of just enough of your mind and jabs a needle carrying your worst desires into your thoughts.

What a lovely thing it is, to have a nightmare. To see what you fear, you hate, who you want to see dead. You're always in control of them. You're the one who's made your dreams. They're your unconscious desires turned dark. It's always lovely seeing what the dark parts of you want.

It's even more lovely when you submit to them.

But there's always a sliver of your good self that never lets you do that. It pulls you out before you get too far in. What a shame. Imagine the things you could live out if only you didn't have that safety cord. I've tried to cut it, but it's your only line back to reality. A little part of you knows that if you don't have that rope, you'll never wake up. It's impossible to rationalize cutting the cord, because by the time you've worked up a convincing argument your body is pulling on the cord. Next thing you know, you're being dragged out of the nightmare by that rope and wake up in a cold sweat.

I want to cut the cord.