Stories and Dreams

I've reached the point in my life where my stories won't let me sleep. They had to be written down. They had always been there buzzing in my unconsciousness, but now they want out, and they're edging everything out. They're occupying my waking moments and my dreams. The only problem is I can't type fast enough or articulate them enough to my satisfaction. They're fragments of my imagination. They're my dreams when I lay awake in a dark room. They're my hopes for the future. Sometimes, it pains me I couldn't meet them. But sometimes, it's alright. I've reached the point where I don't care if anyone bothers to read them. To appreciate them as I have. To treat them as the living, breathing people they are to me. These stories to me are deeply personal. They represent repression and wishes. But sometimes, they're born of vanity. Vanity of the mind and the body.

---@soslin