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| Dreams http://www.psypokes.com/forums/viewtopic.php?f=21&t=23512 |
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| Author: | Crimson [ Mon Oct 13, 2008 10:27 am ] |
| Post subject: | Dreams |
Writer's Corner: Soooo, this was my first assignment in my Composition and Language class. It was a free write with the subject of dreams, so it wasn't graded (thank goodness). I felt bad about not posting for a while, but I'm not sure how I feel about this. I was having a slight panic attack when I was writing it (yes, I have anxiety problems as far as English classes go). That being said, this is probably not my best or near it. I didn't realize how short this was, it takes up one side of a page in my sloppy writing. >.< Dreams
I'd go through the day like clock work. Everything that I did happened at the same time, the same way, perfectly. There was only one part of my life that I could not control. It made my skin crawl. While I smiled and felt content about everything else, I abhorred dreaming. In my dreams, there was no perfection. I always made mistakes. No one wanted to see mistakes, and even less wanted to make one. That was why we were perfect. My world was black and white, but my dreams were colorful. It brought questions to my mind that stubbornly returned after I would banish them. Throughout most of my life, I had gone through pretending that the dreams never happened, and then it happened. One day, I tripped! Everyone stopped and looked at me. I had not fallen; it was only a tiny stumble, but it was still a mistake. As I straightened, I looked at their smiling masks. I froze in place as a sense of terror seeped into me. Little by little, color was phasing into my perfect world. Things were no longer black and white. The next thing I knew, I was being thrown into a van and taken somewhere. That's how I ended up where I am now. Dreams landed me in this place full of color and mistakes. There were others, but they didn't bring me comfort. The ones that were not corrupted had taken away our masks, our beautiful smiling masks. Now, we had nothing left of our old lives. I'm not perfect anymore. I'm not like the clockwork that I had adored for so long. Now, I do not have my mask, and I have lost my identity. I might as well have stopped existing, and just be nothing. |
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| Author: | comedianmasta [ Mon Oct 13, 2008 6:15 pm ] |
| Post subject: | Re: Dreams |
hmm... yes. Poetic, and may have some hidden meaning??? Good though, interestingly good. |
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