Nightmares have a funny way of toppling your normal, boring life into a series of stressful events. Nightmares dig into the recesses of your mind, taking out your insecurities and playing them into a beautiful sequence of everything that you avoid in a movie format, and you are the lead.
Giving some context, there is a house about to collapse sideways, and the epicentre of the nightmare is on the top floor. For some reason, the walls are pink; an ugly shade of pink. A huge crowd and the epicentre is running towards something maybe or running away from something, a significant date, ominous music and tearful gazes.
There is suspense, lots of it. Annoyingly enough, it ends without a climax, leaving the dreamer into a state of frenzy, flustered, exhausted. You name it.
Dreamer fears the nightmares bring to life what is being suppressed. The mind seems to plot against the dreamer and together with a dark thought, validates the fears of a troubled soul.
Waking up is both blissful and traumatic at the same time. There is no win in the situation, the game is rigged, as I always say.
Watch your back, for there are knives pointed towards it. As the candles on your cake begin to increase, so do the knives.
Disappointment is not far, lurking in the shadows and crevices of your mind, waiting to pounce as soon as you begin to hope.
Hope is cancer. It eats you from inside and forces you to smile for the world which does not care what you are up to as long as they get what they want from you.
You never feel the need to be around them but you want to be loved too, to be understood by someone who knows you from A to Z. Maybe you will be understood someday.
Fake it till you make it. It only means that you have to pretend until the socks fall off your feet, but the truth is you will get used to the fake and forget that you were actually supposed to make it.
Whatever, it’s life. It’s dreary.