Writing about dreams

There is life in the realms of sleeping. Dreams, memories, prophecies. Places we long for and places we wish to forget. Our nighttime travels reveal the unseen hidden in the shadowy mists of illusion. We swim in clouds of vibrant colours unknown to waking eyes. We fall into oceans of music so beautiful and strange that even the best composers will spend lifetimes trying desperately to play even imperfect fragments. Stories flow in rivers of sand, streaming from source unknown to the grasping hands of those who may be able to carry a grain of truth. The is no time here for that is one of the three great lies, along with death and happiness. Everything is as solid as smoke and ephemeral as reality. The world is clay to be formed but the instructions where lost or never existed, either way the dreamers are the shapers and the shaped. The pages in the library are blank but you can read every word. All come here yet few ever meet and those that’s do never believe the other is real. There is madness is sanity and sanity in madness. This is all but a dream or maybe this is reality and reality is the dream. They say that dream is the sibling of death so perhaps we die when we sleep expect our body forgets to turn itself off. What is inspiration but ideas run amok on the page. This dream makes no sense or maybe it never did and was never supposed to. The nightingale is calling the sun or perhaps it is the lark calling the moon. Dreams never die, they just change their mask to suit the audience. People die though, their bodies turn to dust like books neglected. No one knows if they are alive in dreams or if those are just memories playing out a new scene in the play. There is no logic but how does one explain a dream without being seen as crazy. Style over substance makes bad writing but substance is itself a style, it’s just boring. Stream of consciousness only works when writing about the coherent, there is no such thing in dreams or in the mind of one who has too many rivers to cross. Maybe all this should have stayed a dream.

I’m trying my hand at stream of consciousness style. I’m not sure I’m very good at it but I might experiment with it in the future if I think this style might fit whatever I’m writing about. Hopefully it isn’t too messy.


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