Onírico…

sparkles_2

“Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.” 
― Edgar Allan Poe

Dreams, nightmares, daydreams, warnings, premonitions, recognitions… So intense, so deep they cut sharply the inner flesh, bruising my already shattered skin. I can feel the shivering cold in my back, a cold as ice feeling lingers in the tip of my finger as it tries to cry out in a dark and yet soft whisper only to make my lips tremble and my eye sight get lost into the nothing, pupils expand little by little as I travel deeper into the dream of reality or perhaps not…

It feels I wake up in a dream and go to sleep in another, it feels I’ve no track of time nor space like if I sleep and wake up in a parallel life and then I go back to sleep and wake up in the other one, I just wonder which one is the “reality” and which one is the “dream”? How do you difference them? how can you tell which on is which? when both seem so attach to you, to your skin, and your everyday life, you pinch your self in both and it hurts the same way, you still get the bruise in the spot.

All my life I’ve felt like living in a parallel world, torn between 2 time spaces and until today I believe so, the only truly worrying thing about it is not how to keep up, or if it’s real or not, but how not to get burned out! You go to sleep and wake up in the dream, do what you have to do and then go to sleep in the dream and wake up in the day and go on with your life (work, meet friends, eat, exercise, shower) until next time, until you sleep again; and then you are once take to that other place, that other reality where you do the same things, just with different meaning, different focus and it’s ok.

Sometimes it’s really hard to know which one is which, but even so I can still recognize one from the other, even when they are both full of magic, wonder, joy, pain, anger, sorrow at points they are identical like a mirror reflection, same thing just inverse position, like a reflection.

How funny, that it’s only when I let my guard down and allow someone to see past the walls I build up, that I begin to understand what it means to be alone; that on nights like this at three in the morning I’m no longer content just with myself and a novel – I feel like I need your fingers running across my shoulders, your legs wrapped up in mine and conversation dancing on our lips. How funny, that you think you’re the emotional wreck and I’m the one who’s going to keep it together for the both of us, when already I feel like I’d have no idea what I’d do were I to lose you.

This is completely alien to me. I just don’t let people in. I don’t let people see the side of me that kisses scars and holds skin close to skin, the side of me that gives a shit and craves you like the air I breath. Wreck me. I wanna be a wreck with you…

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