I think I could start hating dreams.
I really, really think I could. Not just dreams, as in the aspirations of where I want to end up in life, but dreams as in my subconscious movie theater.
Yes, I've had good dreams. The kind where when you awake, you squeeze your eyes shut just to catch one more glimpse of the fields of happiness you were just in. But I've been getting my share of ones I don't want. Where the ghosts of past decide to appear, and make choices in both worlds a bit more complicated.
It's almost to the point where I don't want to sleep. I don't want to know whats endlessly plaguing me. I think about it often enough awake. Why do I need to spend my few hours of totally carefree slumber mulling over things I've spent the past week, month, year, lifetime thinking about.
Not to mention dreams as in my plans for life. Those suck too. Just as soon as I think I've got it all figured out, my mind begins to bunny hop again. Well maybe this, or I could do this! It seems to come around especially after I've had a particularly awkward dream during the night.
I think too much, and don't write enough.
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