myslim ze nevim
How long has it been raining? I do not remember now.
I dreamed again. Of course. I suppose most people dream often, that it is a natural consequence of brain function. But I wonder if anyone else dreams the same things I do.
It's always so tactile, so realistic and raw, full of the strange details of life. The man with the white ostrich feather on his tophat, the professor sitting on the South Mall gleefully telling a joke, the brief bursts of rain that shimmered and fell star-like to the ground. We played cards, and I scuffed my shoes. I dreamed of walking with him, of kissing him, of conversations so painfully real. And yet, I still wake up alone.
I dreamed again. Of course. I suppose most people dream often, that it is a natural consequence of brain function. But I wonder if anyone else dreams the same things I do.
It's always so tactile, so realistic and raw, full of the strange details of life. The man with the white ostrich feather on his tophat, the professor sitting on the South Mall gleefully telling a joke, the brief bursts of rain that shimmered and fell star-like to the ground. We played cards, and I scuffed my shoes. I dreamed of walking with him, of kissing him, of conversations so painfully real. And yet, I still wake up alone.