Caught by the web threads that hang above your bed.

A chance to time travel ...Dreams!

A glimpse of your life, in an alternate universe.

The midnight movie, a random book you pull out to read

A sunflower seed you plant that grows into a sycamore tree.

A different life, but it's a being of me.

So in the deepness of night that holds the meaning of me.

It's when you close your eyes is when you really see.

A once upon a time dimension

The giver, I am the recipient

So when it blesses you with a sweet one

Oh when it gives you a sweet one, it will make reality a bitter place you don't mind not coming back, ever.

Oh a dream to a night, is like the cherry on top of your favorite ice cream

Or on an amusement ride that you don't ever want to end.

To see the people, you thought you won't see again.

And be able to catch up

Sometimes you can't say what you wanted to Sometimes they already know.

It's a chance to fix what you weren't able to

Say what you weren't able to

And hope that direction went a better path

A place to meet up, when life no longer allows you to.

It's where we still see

A virgin land, where you only want to discover first.

Oh sweet quenching thirst

All yours for sweet solitude

Dreams is where a touch is more real

This life isn't

So to Dream

I come home to it

"What's dreaming like, Diane?" Roman breathed, eyes still closed. He lay in the grass with his hands behind his head. Still and peaceful, as if he could be dreaming at this very moment. 

"Dreaming...," I thought, "Dreaming is like, well, it's like being in a movie. It seems kind of real and normal but it's not at the same time." 

"Wrong."

"Excuse me?" 

"You're wrong. Dreams are very different. You're just not doing a very good job of explaining it."

"Well, I'm sorry," I sighed impatiently, "I guess...I guess dreams are more like books. In the back of your mind, you know it's not real, but you get so immersed in it all. You go places you've never gone before. You do things that seem impossible, that are impossible. You're just reading this book that your mind creates, a completely untrue story, but all the emotions are real. But it ends without a real ending. It's like someone just plucks the book out of your hands when you were just getting to a good part in a chapter." 

"That sounds nice," Roman smiled, "and a bit frustrating. But good nonetheless." 

I nodded. 

"It's wonderful when you're having a good dream. But sometimes, no one stops it. It just keeps on going. Like, you're about to get eaten alive by a giant spider or you're plummeting off the edge of a cliff, and you think 'I'll wake up just before it gets me. I'll wake up just before I hit the ground.' And sometimes you do. But sometimes, you don't." 

I felt a little sad, remembering all those reoccurring nightmares I've been having lately. 

"Is it worth it?" he asked. 

"Huh?"

"Is all the mental pain and terror worth the short fleeting moments of happiness?"

"I...I honestly don't know."

"Hmph." 

A moment passed. A bird twittered somewhere in the trees. 

"Dreams are a lot like life then, aren't they?" 

That got me thinking. I looked over at him to ask what he meant, but he had fallen fast asleep. 

Have you ever thought of not writing anymore? Have any of you ever had a moment in time where you wondered, 'Is this something that I should even be attempting?' This has been my life these past few weeks. I'm not sure where this seed of doubt entered my mind or even how it did, but this has been my struggle presently. I even tried to stop writing, just to see if I could... well let's just say it was the worst week of my life. I found that even though I wasn't putting pen to paper, my mind would wander and I would be mentally noting the story even if subconsciously. 

This is my question for theprose.com world. Have you ever thought of not writing anymore? 

JK: Why are you so nice to people?!

ME: Because I don't want to make anyone feel badly.

JK: Some people need the wake-up call.

ME: But it's always better when it's a song you enjoy singing along to, than the one you've heard so many times you'd rather ignore it, or turn it off; I can be nice and make the call, the two aren't mutually exclusive.

-M.E.

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That rhythmic series of thoughts, images & sounds, of how it creates a release from reality - such reverie to be found. Time is limitless as we enter another realm; a notable vision to behold for what will take place could be an epic story, a fairytale or a nightmare that unfolds. Unconsciously we move through the utopian sight, or are sometimes seen in a nightmare to run between fight or flight. No control to know what it will do, can we even remember it; whether it will infuse a sight of beauty & state of calm, or bring fear & night terror & make you feel there could be danger & harm.

I say, let you always be a Dreamer, for those who dream do create & can bring to fruition a new belief. They are life's imagination philosophers: for they rise above social conventions and challenge the status quo. For to have a dream, makes you a pioneer, someone who discovers the unknown. It shows how you are passionately curious in your well ordered mind. Hold onto your cherished aspiration, let it remain your ideal, connect it to your place of presence, make it feel real.

I want you to close your eyes.

Here with me now,

close your eyes and stand with me.

As you hear my voice

outstretch your arms,

eyes tight shut and face to the sky!

As this wide open feeling overtakes you, feel the shift in your balance as you tilt your chin to the clouds.

Take in one wide breath, and invite it to simply escape you, then I want you to spin!

Spin!

Right there were you stand!

Keep your arms flung out,

Truly feel your hands!

Feel the air trace your Palms as they spiral through it.

This is the sense of your shape that makes you You, it's

that sense as air defines

the outside of your lines,

That sensed shape that creates you.

I relate this, because it is all that is real to you, once your beyond this waking world.

Beyond our earthly forms..

Now spin!

And feel till you fall down!

Let that gitty little dizzy take you right on down.

Rest your head softly to the ground..

In this moment, settle down.

Feel the world, seperate from you

still spinning round and round!

It is there!

That feeling there is the disconnect,

the venture, that you lack,

to the subconscious.

As close as I can get you anyway, without you experiencing your part in it on your own.

Then imagine it further,

if your very own intention could

dictate the whole world that you see. All of it!

Like viewing life if it were illustrated by our massive

seas of thought,

every single sentiment.

Like illustrated sentience,

in a drunk like haze while you attempt to fit all of it in....

Dreaming feels like what eating marshmallows is like. Or maybe cotton candy. You know, the way it just melts in your mouth, the sugariness of it all lingering in your mouth, even when it's all gone.

It sounds like everything around you. Yes, you feel like you are actually there. You hear the sounds of birds that fly upside down. You see yourself and yet not at all. Everything is there, and yet it isn't. It's what you have seen, but never thought of. What you know, but can't understand.

Maybe this is confusing, but sometimes you awake from a dream, and it made no sense. You talked to people you've never met, about things you don't know, or made love with someone you don't like. 

Dreams make your heart race. You may wake up in the middle of the night, in a pool of sweat, because you were running from someone. Or you saw something awful, only you can know. Those are nightmares, they are normal. They make you feel alone in your bed. They make the dark places seem evil, like maybe there is a man in your closet after all. 

Dreams are powerful. They can come true sometimes. Maybe you won't know they do until it happens. Maybe they never do. But who cares? Dreams aren't just for babes, the weak or the young. Dreams are an escape from reality, a better place, a different place, or an encouragement/reminder to appreciate what and who you have.

Your eyes fell out

to the sound of

kitchen's humming,

lost in a pot of tea

beside the flickering dots

that scurry

with worry -

dance of the ants.

Deep within 

the roaring fridge,

a light burns out

so you can hear

the leftovers

of yesterday's mind.

All along a fly awaits

as you masturbate whale sounds

onto a plate.

The taste lingers

on my tongue

as I awaken to the dream

that you are.