Ever died in a dream and then woken up? That just means an alternate you in a different timeline has died. Dreams about yourself are a glimpse into what’s going on in alternate versions of yourself. This also would explain why sometimes a person can dream of something, and then have it happen later. You simply have to choose the actions in the dream, and you become the version of yourself from your dream. Your timeline becomes his timeline, and vice versa. Try to be more careful, though. Also, be mindful of what happened to those versions of you who died, will you? Remember: the waking you is also the dream of another sleeping you.

(Source: please-wakeup)

Random Lines [006]

Abstractions

I just felt like writing. Words seem to have an outlet through the quill I wield. Thoughts on my existence. Events, people, places, time… all these things seem to pass me by. Things that were lost vanished like some distant memory. So will I, I guess. This is the way life is. In this evanescent life I yearn for this freedom I cannot acquire. My strengths and weaknesses will all lie under the same fate as with everything else.

Ah, yes… living each day as though it was my last is never a fun feeling. The ordinariness of each day seems to thaw out the cold pall I envelop my thoughts in. As the breaking of a new day and the sun appears in the horizon, I think to myself that these fluttering moments I have will never last. Nihility? I scorn at that thought. Forever there is this exigency of moving forward into life neglecting the finitude we all face.

These pervasive illusions, so vivid do they feel. It is in me. The curse of dreams and reality, this balance of motion and silence, this mesh of light and dark haunts me to no end. Sanity is but a nice thought though nearly unreachable. Flooded with all these emotions my heart begins to beat faster.

Until the end when yet another flame in the world of souls is snuffed out. Silently, somewhere, wherever I might be during this break in time… disappears. Is it truly reality you see, never changing as the days pass by. Never the less, I feel it, in my own body; this pulsing warmth that makes me believe I’m here.

Lying here on the hilltop facing the raging ocean and red sky I ponder. Unhurriedly the sun sets the backdrop to crimson changing the once azure fields in the heavens. Why do I feel hesitation and confusion? I burst into madness seeking to destroy the pain that will never go away. I want to burn all my wishes, dreams, fantasies hidden deep within myself into a small glowing cinder. Alas, to no avail. Tears well up in my eyes. Drained, I cry. Tucking my head between my crossed arms resting on top my curled legs… just letting the tears flow. There is no need for words here.

The new landscapes I have yet to explore, my existence like a flame flickering in the wind uncertain how long it will last yet holds on dearly to what is has left. I shall give it my all, upon entering this land I have descended. This essence deep within my hear will continue to glow as long as I have something to hold on; whatever it may be.

-Lazren

When people tell me “They’re just fictional characters”, I feel bad for that person because their imagination is so stunted that they can’t feel the life breathing from the characters that are alive in ways they cannot ever understand.

(Source: -keanureeves-)