Spirit (daimones) wrote,

  • Mood:

And a merry Christmas to you subconscious.

So, I say to the girl in my dreams, what do you really think of me?

She grows cold, unresponsive, and pulls away, her voice like ice. 'I believe that you make me uncomfortable and that I can't stand you. Get out.'

Tears and recriminations follow. But at least I could fly a plane in my dreams.
Tags: dream
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