NocturniaI am having trouble sleeping., Memories of events of a convention come back, haunting me. It was an exciting weekend, yet while do I feel like I am being turned inside out, my soul wishing to rip the memories from my mind and scatter them across the fires of hell. Yet even if these memories are burned, they are like a phoenix, they will reform from the ashes and my mind will shatter.
I am sitting, staring at the screen, tabs open of many job websites and social networking sites, while in the background, music of battle and calamity plays. While in the tabs, Word is awaiting the fingers, the imagination to be formed. It is awaiting for me to start writing, to create, to give birth to a new world. Beings of Fantasy and Technology, Organic and Non Organic, Humans, Animals to be formed from thin air, so they can roam the new world I have created.
A fan fiction sits awaiting to be completed, so one can see another’s view on how a story could be told. The melody from American Beauty is
Fact or FantasyI have this tad problem. I cannot figure out what is truth, lie, what is fact or fantasy. I cannot remember what is my memory and what is a fake lie I created long that has manifested into a memory, or a dream has become physical.
Certain Memories for example;
When I was younger I was suicidal, I have memories, of trying to cut myself, strangle myself, burn, swallow products that would destroy me and drowning myself. The latter seems true, I remember life escaping my body, my fingers not even grasping anything, i was going to die there and then, my body trapped at the bottom by stones, but there is no record, no remembrance by the man who pulled me out of the river. I remember having a dream similar to this, and thinking, could my memories of swimming and nearly drowning by accident have formed with a dream of actual suicide created a fake memory of a suicide.
Then there are other instances of exploits and adventures I have performed, which all feel real, I could remember the sight, ta