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Tenuous Bonds


Growing up has its perks, but I will say this: being constantly reminded of my decaying flesh husk is not always how I want to be aware of my mortality. I woke up and my neck hurt down to my shoulder and it’s like, if sleeping hurts me I’m fucked.

It definitely happened because I slept the wrong way, but how do I control that? Try as I might I just can’t subconsciously access my motor functions to move my head ever so slightly. If I’m being honest I think it’s because I stopped smoking.

My neck doesn’t hurt because I stopped smoking. Rather, since I stopped smoking and I’ve gotten it out of my system I have started to dream at night again. When I smoke I don’t dream, but once I’m off I dream again. In all honestly I don’t really like dreaming anymore. A lot of the times they’re nonsense, but it just takes one vivid recollection to throw me for a loop all day.

This blog is not to chronicle my dreams, and frankly I don’t really need to remember them. My old best friend told me his friend from high school kept a dream journal because it lends to remembering your dreams more, and if you remember your dreams more you can lucid dream. But I want to sleep to rest. I don’t need to have control over my subconscious. Rather, I want that other reality to remain itself, and I want to do my best to avoid the tenuous connection between our parallel universes.

Somewhere out in the infinite cosmos we all exist over and over again, never ending, and at times the physical boundaries separating us become weak and allow a glimpse, hence our dreams. Only sometimes those dreams are about another person my soul feels connected to, and when I see them and lose them to consciousness a part of me still remembers them. I suppose being noticed, even for a moment, might still be better than eternal solitude. But who wants to take a chance like that?

Love you Amelia, Marie, kitty, sis, dad, mom


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