restless sleep of the wicked

“We wash ourselves clean of moments lived and wander somwhere that a new time begins…” ~*Dreampoet*~

If only it were that simple all the time, in reality and in our dreams.. don’t you hate it when you wake to find that it’s  a dream?  Consider that moment between dreaming and waking, filled with poignant longing to be back in the dream before it fades from our minds.

Sometimes I think that I live in a dream, and that all the things that make me happy are insubstantial and ethereal, real only in my mind and nowhere else.

Writing makes me happy, and it seems that when I first begin to write an online journal, my writing is filled with personal insights and deep dark secrets. As soon as it is read, however small the readership may be, I tend to want to censor myself. I wish it weren’t this way, and I wish I could gush out deepest darkest emotion without fear of recrimination.

I long to splash words out on the page heedlessly – exposing my bluest, and my blackest moments without hesitation.

I always edit though.



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