Perhaps is the desperation to quench this insatiable thirst that drives us to destroy in the name of seeking, and the dream, however personal, needs the touch of another to come to life. Not in the way of a mantra or anything, but those statements have played a larger role in my pursuit of that motherly piece that all children of the earth deserve. But like an apparition, I wear my skin pale, and they don't have the eyes for it. In their reveries, they choose to fill the voids with colorful illusions and dwell in the dungeons of their doubts. So, until a few nights ago, the only thing I had managed to achieve throughout my endeavours had been brokenness. Needless to say, the dream had destroyed me. The dream I had hoped would serve as the backbone to my carriage had consumed my being completely. I was an empty cove walking. A knock on my heart could echo the emptiness that found a home within my soul. The sound of joy had become a memory, and the silence was deafening.
On the night in question, I went to bed early as usual (9:30 pm), stuffed with wishes for the following day, and without the desire to dream. That's because the nightmares that torment me during the day are enough to keep my fears awake; I was afraid to to fall in the abyss of dreams, again. But, I don't know how that night I forgot to close the door after my eyes were shut. She entered....

© Ommie