Night Terror

My brain shuts off and my body tingles as I feel myself floating away and into an abyss I like to call my dreams. Who knows, maybe tonight it’ll be different, maybe this time I won’t go down a horrible rabbit hole depicting the stresses and pressures of our daily lives I vainly believe I can escape when I close my eyes.

Oh dear, here we go. I can see the echoes and hear the shadows, I can taste the stress as I choke and twist and struggle, but really I’m just unconscious. And I can’t escape my unconscious.

All those repressed feelings and thoughts and notions and… “stars, hide your fires, let not the light see my black and deep desires, the eye wink at the hand. Yet let that be, which the eye fears when it is done to see.” Shakespeare makes it poetic as he has a knack to do, but it’s on such a larger and scalier scale, dear me.

Dear me, dear me, dear me- I’m late!

My eyes flutter as I sigh and breathe in deeply, and the harsh light wakes me up from the deep reverie. My dear, my dear, it felt like an e-ter-ni-ty.

But who cares, who cares? Because I will not remember anything but the terror of my true soul, the feeling of recurring horror because the real me is so horrible even I cannot begin to bear it.

the light enters my retina through nerves through neurons though my flesh and blood mind. What a horrible burden our brains are. A horrible and beautiful burden. Our brains are made up of more elements than even the vain stars in the sky.

No wonder they call the arrogant stars lucky.

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