A bad dream came to haunt me last night.
Everything was so...real. In that particular one (there were two dreams, in fact), which concerned two characters closer to me in real life, it was as though every single tiny thread and ribbon related to those two was being pulled out and mixed in that condensed form of a story.
Condensed, because so much more could be happening, the storyline could be developed further, and of course leave me drowning in fear. Fortunately, everything happened rather quickly at the speed of a police-chase-victim movie.
Also, it was probably going to continue had I not jerked up suddenly and worried about it happening in real life, at around 7 am. At that point in time, blogging about it made the most sense to me.
So guys, blogging isn't like "oh, I'm blogging only because I want readers to have something to read everyday so my readership will go up, blah, blah, blah" for me. It isn't an obligation, its more like how writing a diary can be a habit psychologists ask people to pick up.
It helps and forces me to remember the entire event, to analyse it and preferably find a solution on my own even if its not written here.
You know what, after writing this I can finally be convinced its just a dream, just a dream, hah.
There are so many songs that talk about dreams and sleeping, hmmm.
"sleep" by Eric Whitacre which the choir has picked up for some period of time shall remain as my favourite one.
Face it emma, you miss singing with the choir too much.
Also, its true I shouldn't dislike them hmm, afterall they're just close to one another and that isn't their fault. Hating others sucks to the core, and I'll choose to listen to this opinion, then.
Colours make a difference to everything. This post shall never have any other colour besides black. It makes everything dull and m o n o t o n o u s, true to the emotions i'm experiencing and in a sense, freaky.
Well, the red can come across as a scary colour too. Horribly striking, don't you think?
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