December 13, 2008
Free Writing:
Beautiful flower, the dance of the dreams, smiles of the seasons. I follow the images that dance, the lack of rest tormenting me. I watch the man in the moon, I watch the lady of the see. I crave the blankness of sleep, but not as much I crave the lack of dreams that I will never find. The dreams they follow me, they become the images I see during the day. They all begins to blur into one another, they begin to become one whirling circle, one revolving circle that becomes the spinning wallpaper to my world.
Beautiful flower, the dance of the dreams, smiles of the seasons. I follow the images that dance, the lack of rest tormenting me. I watch the man in the moon, I watch the lady of the see. I crave the blankness of sleep, but not as much I crave the lack of dreams that I will never find. The dreams they follow me, they become the images I see during the day. They all begins to blur into one another, they begin to become one whirling circle, one revolving circle that becomes the spinning wallpaper to my world.
