He used to love dreaming. Closing his eyes and seeing everything he would never have. All the things he wanted, right in front of him. When he was a kid it was candy, toys and his parents showing him they loved him. As he turned into a teen he saw a life without pain, him on an endless field, freed from his demons, the drugs and the pain, simply standing there, looking at the sky. He didn't feel pain nor fear. His dreams were a beautiful escape and sometimes, as the cold of the winter would almost kill him on the road, he would dream while he was still awake.
A snowman, a christmas tree and a warm meal. All the little lights and the softness of the carpet on the floor. Maybe even a little present, wrapped in shiny paper, bright red with a green bow on top. His dreams always had such lovely music and sometimes he could even smell them. Hot chocolate, soup and maybe his mum's perfume. All mixing together into his own little paradise.
