dreaming

I love it when there__ nothingLeft to see but tiny spots of what__ still lightStories piercing the night.

I had a dream about you last night... it was about a dreamer and a drifter walking into a bar. They start talking and swapping stories. No matter what the drifter says the dreamer always one-upped him. The drifter then woke up and realized he was the dreamer.

Knowing how to dream is more important than the story, because the story tells itself.

Be humble and set the balls of your dreams rolling till God himself decides what next! As for "pride", allow it to go as a lone ranger!

I roused myself from the book which I was dreaming over rather than reading, and left my chambers to meet the cool night air in the suburbs.

The promise of a hopeful future is motivation for the pursuit of my dreams.

With all your heart, reach out to your divine-dreams.

I wither slowly in thine arms; here at the quiet limit of the world, a white hair'd shadow roaming like a dream.

savorwith methe lushnessof a lingering sleep...and last night__dream.

I had a bizarre rapport with this mirror and spent a lot of time gazing into the glass to see who was there. Sometimes it looked like me. At other times, I could see someone similar but different in the reflection. A few times, I caught the switch in mid-stare, my expression re-forming like melting rubber, the creases and features of my face softening or hardening until the mutation was complete. Jekyll to Hyde, or Hyde to Jekyll. I felt my inner core change at the same time. I would feel more confident or less confident; mature or childlike; freezing cold or sticky hot, a state that would drive Mum mad as I escaped to the bathroom where I would remain for two hours scrubbing my skin until it was raw. The change was triggered by different emotions: on hearing a particular piece of music; the sight of my father, the smell of his brand of aftershave. I would pick up a book with the certainty that I had not read it before and hear the words as I read them like an echo inside my head. Like Alice in the Lewis Carroll story, I slipped into the depths of the looking glass and couldn__ be sure if it was me standing there or an impostor, a lookalike.I felt fully awake most of the time, but sometimes while I was awake it felt as if I were dreaming. In this dream state I didn__ feel like me, the real me. I felt numb. My fingers prickled. My eyes in the mirror__ reflection were glazed like the eyes of a mannequin in a shop window, my colour, my shape, but without light or focus. These changes were described by Dr Purvis as mood swings and by Mother as floods, but I knew better. All teenagers are moody when it suits them. My Switches could take place when I was alone, transforming me from a bright sixteen-year-old doing her homework into a sobbing child curled on the bed staring at the wall. The weeping fit would pass and I would drag myself back to the mirror expecting to see a child version of myself. __ho are you?_ I__ ask. I could hear the words; it sounded like me but it wasn__ me. I__ watch my lips moving and say it again, __ho are you?

Too many people are quick to dream big, but slow to act on it.

The only way you can talk about this great tide in which you__e a participant is as Schopenhauer did: the universe is a dream dreamed by a single dreamer where all the dream characters dream too.

I had a dream about you last night. You were at my door. We had forgotten what we used to fight about. So, I let you in and we made coconut pancakes like it was the very first time.

I had a dream about you last night. We were in your old Civic. Nine Inch Nails was turned up on the stereo and I was taking pictures of you behind the wheel with my disposable camera. We went through the drive through at El Pollo Loco, placed an order for a hundred bucks worth of food, and then just drove off at the window. I miss being stupid with you.

I had a dream about you. The sky was green and the ground was blue. You spoke a song and I sang my thoughts. We ate lemonade and drank cookies. It all made perfect sense.

I had a dream about you last night. I was alone on a dark night and you came to me as a firefly. I knew it was you because you were the brightest.

She turned to look at him, and he was already looking at her. ____ going to miss you when I wake up,_ she whispered, because she realized that she must have fallen asleep under the sun. Arin was too real for her imagination. He was a dream.__on__ wake up,_ he said.

There is a divine grace available for you to accomplish far greater things than you could ever imagine nor dream of.