Chasing Butterflies
- Reads 230
- Votes 38
- Parts 12
Ongoing10m
Last published Fri, Nov 5, 2021
Dreams....
art, dance and fleeting memories and music. That I can no longer make sense of. Maybe they never did. Maybe they don't have to.
Yet, I've tried. Tried to peice them all together...to sew these..
endlessly
t o r n
fabric
Into one....
But I can't.
There was a time that I was sure that I had a name. Not anymore. Now here I lay, tired but more awake than I've ever been, attempting to sketch them out, perhaps on paper and to write them to those who can read.
I now attempt to disclose my dreams of times I chased butterflies and the times they chased me.
Because now all that I can do is dream.
Only dream...
Highest ranks:
12 in diary
5 personal narrative
All Rights Reserved
#38
dissociative
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