The Known

A heaviness in my body makes it hard to get out of bed. I can feel the yellow warmth of the sunbeams hitting my sleep swollen face. Mornings are getting harder. It seems as though I have been somewhere else for years, and it is hard to account for that time as I begin to feel every muscle and bone awaken. I am of stiff body and mind. Trying to recollect the past dream’s events are clouded and daunting. There was a scene. A neon glaze in the sky illuminating larger than normal planets and celestials. The skies are always larger and more uniquely proportioned in my dreams than in waking life. As always with these sky scenes looms the possibility of catastrophe and doom. Perhaps the planets closeness warns of an impending collision, explosive and fatal. I know it was a dream. I am sitting up in my bed and the glow of the morning becomes snuffed out by incoming clouds. They are a saturated slate gray that boasts of stormy hours, but I know better. The anticipation of the storm in my mind dissipates as no such storm comes to fruition. I am sad.

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