You Were Always a Daydreamer Draft Version

(3) Why Are You Still Here?

Why was I a daydreamer?
A burst of rolling confusion would wrap up even a speck of all his certainty. Struggling fighting a weird mirror, it would smile... It would be evil. The slamming sound of his fist shattering those green tinted reflections. The blood would excessive, it's heavy and even sticky... Gooey.

More irrational spiders would spin around his ritual of an unborn HELL. It was going to tear him into pieces of distant oblivion. He saw the lack of color in his eyes, colorblind without color loss, and colorful, color messes. He rather it be blank, losing everything addicting.

Throwing his head, he could see another head being thrown a delay after him. Red and yellow flashing with every time he did so. The lackluster breaking and crumbling the images in his head.

He felt so excited to waste another countless bundle of his minutes he holds dearly on a misery spree. The mindless mist forming, he enjoys the suffering. Only to feel the cracks on his face grow and deceive his senses far beyond a rational ridiculous extent.

The loudly reverberated echoes, hellish trumpet horns and funky dropped down music was the last of his want. Spiraling down into a foul hysteria, will he make it out?

All meaning of time, within his eyes... Would begin to mix unlatch and malform.

Not a day to wake, only to spend, eating... Addiction, addiction ADDICTION. As the agony sets in after a weeping withdrawal, he is sent down a rabbit hole. For the hallucinations are what he does not see, but provoke.

Who is a daydreamer?
Another forgotten wake, this time it's mixed flashes. Oh why did you have to go so far? Your vision is blending into these cuts in motion, your ears... Can't hear a ounce of the pain the normal pain you felt before, the agony and distant anguish is worse than the tears you form before.

The only things that form are the cracks on your cheeks, only brittle streams of destruction. An empty tear no longer dropping.

The image is still, as those chances of seeing seeing motion through only those shifting broken sliding curtains... Were very high! The only thing to realize a bit of hope is still within somewhere, it only crumbles from here.

It's a shattered boring redesign, are those brain rotting indulgences. A smile would curl lifting the glass only high above your head, the sharp edge could not be any tinier and more dangerous.

But from the angle of lifting his head he could not tell, a trap... A false sense of hope would continue to bury the unfortunate realization there may be no escape. Seething, coping... He crawls into a ball, those flashes and motioned curtains he wanted to grab onto.

He didn't want his fairytale to end, but it would slowly show signs of immediate restless decay, a melting burning point... Too soon. All his favorite characters, shift away into an image he couldn't recognize, falling down... From the 3RD dimension. It was all becoming too clear, sitting here would do nothing.

Unfortunately, he no longer evens knows who's a daydreamer anymore. It's burning... The violins would sing him a sad song, only to be these unholy noises he could not carry, of his own burden. His ears wishing to hear something... Familiar.

Standing out there, the zips, the zaps, the warps, and beeping tones are... Only replacing the organic tune of... A bird song... He's falling.

What's a daydream?
Putting thoughts into reality, He could see the burning ashes of ridden conscious. Born to be torn from every page. Every piece of matter warping and taking such a surreal affect. Every word every phrase... Could only be seen as a hopeless mixture. Break of want... Some... I... Lack... Long mood of......

It was all falling into one place, being certainly destroyed into a hopeless madness, yet everything is distant, and the warmth has become cold. A waste of attempts have been made.

More struggles and trying times lead to severely awful quality within his sense of who he was.

"Food... Back there and bad." Was what his mind spoke to him, such a confusion within a storm... After not being able to finish, when he hasn't started eating his reality check, something we all must do.

But it turned on him, breaking a deformed cacophony. "Break... Bandwidth continues blow up." Of course, it was all slowly down and not making sense anymore.

Words are a returned and ruptured mess, slowly pain and agony dissolves, uncomfortable confusions are even falling to the far gone and beyond. A banging confusion trying to call out on the side, to the empty husk... Going for a car ride.

"It can't be the same..." Broken is this rotten judgement, shattered is the joys that lived once ago. The last visions of memory would not be too far from here. Everything written in a faded green, red, yellow and blue... Mostly gray eats all the magic away.

Why is it so bleak? A reflect in the puddle of a reoccurring rainy day not only leads to something faceless, but even the palette and quality of this art piece was missing... The shading would drill into the center of the FACE. There's soon nothing to come left.

Making out tiny sketches and carves into the paper brittle face... You can see eyes, ears, mouth and nose... so far gone the cavern reaches, a memory not so far... To roll in, hope could be around the corner... Please, just once he calls out... What am I forgetting?