Was I even a daydreamer?
Waking up, I can feel every pain. Where I sit up and do it, all over again. Is this how it goes? To the very end of my woes?
Looking out the window, I start to see it fits more when it rains. I say I like storms, and rain. That's only because this weather is the only thing, I have left the gain. I can feel my memories, my mind, my motives everywhere shift to a different conscious.
I began to ask myself, was I even that great to myself back then? Were those times even worth it... Although I certainly know for sure, I can feel everything crawling into a draining whirlpool... Right? It's like I begin to feel unaware and confused of things I think now... With more days that pass, I want to escape again.
I reach out to the eases, of my pleases and drift away. The mood seems lower, but I mask it. I try so hard to feel those things again. Rotting my brain with the goodies I could spell out and burn my vision spheres into.
It was so delightful. Something I could never have! I love drifting into a sudden boredom, when I'm faced with the next blurry interruption in the way, I don't need glasses I'm fine.
I dug deep into the least joyful things, have I surely gone too far? Will the next journey leave a scar? Everything I see, It's mostly meaningless names. Can I... Really, see? I have eyes, and the gift of sight for everything beautiful. But... It's all becoming blurry in one half of me.
I'm standing, struggling, fighting, lashing, tearing, yanking, tugging. I'm still strong, very strong. Static filling my view, everyone is a decrepit image... One day or another.
I can SEE that, but I cannot explain what I cannot see. Dots, shifting lines, an animation. Colors warping and shifting into a beautiful horrifying mess. Spinning maximum 4D images, the translucent buried pairs of eyes are mine.
Colors are starting to literally fall, Infront of my delicate layers, that protect my eyes... Only to realize a wasteland arriving at dusk. I'm drowning.
YOU ARE READING
You Were Always a Daydreamer Draft Version
Science FictionWhen you're forced to mask Reality with Fantasy. The lifted layers finally unveil the tombstone of self. The biggest cities into the tiniest pebbles The massive ideas and thoughts formed into merely something to fear. A protagonist who already forgo...
