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Insignificant Dreams

🇦🇺Yona_tsuki
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Synopsis
The significance of insignificant things, in this case, dreams. A discursive short story.
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Chapter 1 - Insignificant Dreams

Dreams occur every night in the minds and eyes of people but are forgotten when the people's eyes awaken to the truth, either a harsher, confusing, or more peaceful reality. Though some of these dreams are remembered, they can either be a blessing of peace, happiness and doves painted across a clear sky, or a chilling claw appearing from the shadows that shreds apart skin, draining the blood in our bodies right down to our feet. Leaving us shivering in that cold fluid that wraps around and enshrouds our consciousness, trapping us and making us a prisoner of our minds. 

These dreams like to play with me. They create a crown made of air and place it on my head held high, as I peer over people I want to surpass, as I stand next to those that already have a crown made of gold, as everything I want surrounds me, smiling a sweet smile of mockery as they let out loud mumbles, sneers and laughs at my hateful happiness, that chant over and over driving me into a craze of hysteria, that enchants my soles to dance, thudding like the heaviest desires in the world where only I belong! As I sit on this throne created by my mind… isn't it cruel? 

These dreams play with me like a young child playing with a void doll, and start a cruel game of "subconscious fears". The scenery changes from the looming throne where I sat, to the world sitting on that throne looking down on a sewer-dragged rat like me squirming as I'm tied to a rusty wooden chair. It plays a movie only for my eyes, so I can watch myself running fueled with terror, hiding with my breath swallowed, struggling in pain and off running again, from this ghost who toys with the lives of humans. Or of this person dressed in the same black of midnight shadows, stabbing my loved ones in my home on a tempestuous night, with the reverberant lightning illuminating the scene before me. Or of this lone decaying mess of a human... no... a zombie, who had been set free from its owner's leash, this mysterious tuxedo man tapping his cane on the cold marble of the domino-tiled floor, looking for entertainment through this hunting game with a joy-filled grin. The zombie chasing me to no end, up and down countless floors, leaving dragging bloody stains along the corridors and stairs of this unsuitably luxurious mansion, excessively dressed in gold and marble. Dreams like these are the world my mind shows me on repeat, again, again, again, and again, again, and again, and again, and again! Aiming to drive my sanity deeper into this bottomless blue hole that grabs my limbs with shapeless arms of water and pulls me further down, slowly gagging my mouth as my frantic screams and futile disputes float up in bubbles. Soon covering my eyes from the surface's hypocritical rays of light that try to slip me a note of hope, acting as if it's a friend who doesn't want me to disappear. But in dreams, there is no hope. It's an intangible world, so I can't help but give a sneering smile and wave bitterly a goodbye to that shameless light, as I get dragged deeper and deeper to its bottomless depths. 

These insignificant dreams so easily forgotten by people, these very dreams that haunt, curse, twist, corrupt and distort my reality. These "insignificant" dreams drive me insane.Â