Friday, November 23, 2012


The dream goes like this:
I'm at a desperate point in my life
Stagnate, loss of motivation, low on funds
I look around at my peers and feel hopeless
I see smiling faces
Relationships full of appended
Memories preserved in near eternal formats
Then the panic sets in and I go somewhere
Maybe I'm in a library and I run frantically out into the street
Sometimes I'm driving and I crash
Off a cliff
Into the river
Down a steep tree infested hill
Sometimes that ends the scenario
I wake up
Sweat dreanched
Eyes dry
Treming with the shock of the astral selfs demise
But each time though
 I have a bag in my hands
The book has notes, hundreds of them
The notes are written for a specific person
Each note having a different name
I recognize the names
Some more importent then others
But each significant
I offen wonder if these words are those notes made manifest

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