Dream Dark Stories

Tag: imagination

  • Day Two Hundred & Forty-Nine, September 5th, 2024

    Hi-ho and hello.

    So…about worry.

    Fear is an amazing and frightening thing isn’t it? We can be so relaxed with not a worry to be had and all it takes is that small innocuous moment of something changing to immediately set anxieties reeling and levels of stress reaching a peak that has one struggling to breathe.

    I’m there now. Struggling to breathe but there is something funny about this…isn’t there? Because, what do you want to bet nothing has happened?

    It’s true. Nothing as of yet has happened about the workshop. Nothing has manifested other than my dear friend having a good session for a workshop. That’s it.

    And for some reason my imagination isn’t there.

    What happens within is the mind tells me he’s fleeing that he’ll cut the cord today, that he’ll tell me I’m a fraud, nothing good, waste of time…oh the anguish.

    That’s the imagination at its worst.

    C’est La Vie

    Good night and good morning, good morning and good night. I think you for your patience, I thank you for your support, I thank you for being you and staying awesome. May your night be ever graceful and the night be a whirlwind of bliss and wonder.

    NOSCE TE IPSUM

  • Day Fifty-Five, February 24th, 2024

    It’s the end of my last course, for a moment. Tomorrow, Sunday, will be the last day of school till the 18th of March. I hadn’t noticed until earlier this afternoon. Oddly, the excitement I thought would be there, well, it isn’t.  I enjoy the routines and the planned flow of work set and lined to the end. I don’t know, maybe I need it. Perhaps I could take the opportunity, depending on other circumstances, to make possible my writing, the art, and drop Stuck Pt. 2. Maybe make the IG account a business one too. It’s not like I use it except to drop art.

    It’s a thought, it usually is anyway, but then I let myself and the worries within grab hold and I freeze. I may maintain a motion, especially if it’s a normal routine I carry on through a weekday, like dinner, the dogs, dishes, laundry, but what’s in my mind is usually my worst enemy. The inkling of trouble, the small notion of negative tones, a sulking mannerism seen and I’m reeling. Especially within because the chances, the options, and the prospects, are so much darker, bleak, and vile.

    The imagination, though I appreciate it, I fear the eagerness at times that catapults my heart and mind throwing them in an emerald tornado of fret and worry that takes so long to trod through.

    Til tomorrow, Monday morning late Sunday night, who knows.

    C’est la vie

    Good night and Good morning, good morning and good night.

    Nosce Te Ipsum