Dreams are sometimes so vivid...
Is what we think of as a dream real, or is what we think of as reality in fact a dream?
Is "real" even a real word?
Do words even exist outside of our imagination?
Does sleep occur when we're closing our eyes at night?
Or rather, when we're opening our eyes in the morning...?
I believe in love like love believes in love...abstract like oxygen and drifting clouds
I love experiencing it...embracing it...it lets us know we're alive
And I've learned that i'm not scared to be alive
These days too many people are
We are growing up too quickly
Maybe someday I’ll start to
I like to write because it feels like breathing....
It's a way of connecting with my soul
I sometimes wish my words could be carried on wind
Traveling to every point in the universe
Lost in translation
Other times I want them to remain mine and mine alone...
These are my feelings today
They may be different tommorow
Yet still the same...