pictures .

for every dream, there is a reality. for every precious moment, there is a regret. yet the reality of these regrets are not recognised until it’s too late.

he’s walking towards the light in my dreams. there’s no long tunnel filled with dark emptiness, just a speck of light that he thinks will be better than anywhere else. the speck of light is in the opposite direction of me. driven by the possibility of a happy ending, he walks on…

like a black and white movie, the colours eventually blend and his outlines fade away. not even a shadow remains now, and the memories of characteristics and mannerisms are seeping out of my consious mind. i still dream, but when my mind is catapulted back to reality all i can do is remember. there’s a gaping hole in my life. i dig up some earth and attempt to fill it up, but it just falls into the never ending void.

it makes no difference.

i need to take the pictures off the walls of my mind. redo the furnishings. change my surroundings. but i can’t seem to refurbish my dreams.

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