Real

As I allow myself to be swept into the void, I can’t help but feel a smile creeping up on these lips of mine. I can’t help but feel my eyes close with the sensation of peace as my mind wanders into a dream world of my own making.

Sleep, something so elusive lately, has come to me. It has come to set me free. Of this day. Of this life. There’s no other way that I could find myself loosening up, finding the corset around my heart to loose and fall away. Finding that the fears that have so viciously sewn my mouth shut recede into nothingness. I am okay here. I’m always going to be okay here.

I have dreamt of incredible dreamscapes. Damp sand with marble flooring, the water rushing in from a shore unseen as I walk barefoot through it, looking up at the darkening sky, it’s gray clouds finding their way to me. Still though, they cannot breach the barrier that is my safety.

Another place, another time. As I navigate these dreams and these worlds, I find ways to make them into stories. I find ways to create them into novels upon my waking hours. They will always fuel that wanderlust within me; that desire I have to inhabit a world not my own.

If I could ever reach another planet with life on it, I would go there in a heartbeat. I would study the culture of humans there, I would study the strange plant life and animals. I’d learn the languages and taste the food because despite my dreams taking me from this life temporarily and my nomadic spirit fueling me to travel the earth, I find myself wanting to wander further than just the horizon of this world. Crazy as it sounds, I want to wander every horizon. I want to watch them, know them, feel them. I need to know their sounds, their taste, their scents because as I rise from the gripping fingers of darkness that pull me down, I can know that have a place that I can be alone. A place to call home.

How I wish that I could be alone, in my own place, devoid of fight of politics, devoid of vicious crimes and violence. Devoid of the things that strip my happiness away from me shred by shred until I find myself bare to the very core. It is then that I retreat into these worlds that I have created within my own mind; these worlds that I somehow wish would someday be real. How I would love to stand in some of the places I’ve explored in my mind. How I’d do anything to inhabit each and every world that I find.

But for now, I stay within this world. Not because I’m trapped by it, but because I choose to be within its walls for the sake of my own safety. I can venture into my own worlds through stories and novels. And maybe someday…just maybe…they could become real.

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