I dreamt of playing a wooden trumpet that kept falling apart and laughing so hard that all my sorrow dissolved.
I turned around in my bed and dreamt of my stalker. I woke up furious.
I have powerful emotions in my dreams. I have violent eruptions of feelings in my imagination even when I am awake, making up heated arguments and upsetting events. In my real life, there is also emotion. But few ever get to witness it.
People just don't upset me like they should.
4 comments:
Have you sometimes wondered whether what you imagine affects your reality to such an extent that sometimes you can't differentiate between what you dreamt of and what actually happened?
Being closed helps when you are surrounded by people who would not understand your surging and swaying emotions.
P.S. : Thanks for your comment on my blog. :)
Peeping thru windows into other ppl's lives, are we Pianopoet?
You are an exception - liking the bed-tea pic. But yes, it sums up my general lethargic disposition.
And you actually got a stalker? How wonderful! Do let me join the petra-stalker Association (India Chapter) Pvt. Ltd.
Oh, and dream on. There's this line, roughly translated it'd go like this:
"I'll no longer see you with my living eyes - a small loss;
There is no end to the sight of dreams, and so we'll meet."
I try to not let my imagination run too wild during my waking hours. I find my dreams are much more interesting when they have to catch up on making up things... So far, I haven't had much trouble distinguishing between reality and dreams - sometimes I actually wish these would be just a little confused, for the excitement of it.
And yes, my stalker would probably not mind if you started up an India branch! If I'm lucky, I can get him outsorced to India.
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