The lost memory

I hate dreams, I hate that I love them.

It could send me to places I’ve never been and things I have never felt before.
But there is just too much that goes wrong with all this new feelings.

They are not real.

They were a memory just as real memories are and in colour most of the time. But they are not real. I am not real in a dream. Why why why are we in a life of such misery and filled with annoyance of situations that our mind just seem to like to create.

Those warm arms, the slight smile, the comfort in my heart.  Are these not true? The moment I woke into this reality my heart has been crying for it cannot stand the pain that it could never ever be.

They say we forget 93% of our dreams by the time we wake up and as the seconds go we forget almost all of them. But obviously my mind has to choose to remember this one. If only my heart could bitch slap my mind, there would be some peace in my emotions.

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