1 part Ongoing MatureI had a dream. It was not some ambition, nor a lofty goal that I wanted to pursue. But a true dream. Nearly a nightmare, really. But it was fascinating to me. Over a year later, it sits in my heart as heavy today as it was then.
The tones of the dream and its themes, for want of a better word, were weighty, intense, and disturbing. A dream that explored themes of death, loss, shame, self-destruction, depression, and the struggles of the human condition.
I'm not a writer, even casually, though I've long been a lover of books. This is my first, and likely only, attempt at writing, an attempt to put to words the contents of that dream that left such a mark on me.
This is my dream. It is not perfectly relayed, for that would be a poor payment to anyone who takes the time to read this. Rather, it is the bones of my dream given flesh, clothed in my own experiences and traumas of the human experience.
I hope that you, dear reader, find it as compelling as I did when I first dreamt it.
