You brought me here.
To the place where my sweat darkened the smallest circles on the floor.
And here I stayed.
15 long years I’ve spent ricocheting off the walls trying to keep momentum.
You know that I’ve tired.
You know I’ve tried to escape the bounds of memory and illusions of what’s past.
To separate known from dream.
Lost in the most beautiful dreamworld of a leafless forest and swirling cold winds.
Am I cold or is it my imagination?
I see small blips and fractal glitches of dunes in the distance behind the trees.
But I will always choose the cold.
And then a sharp snap back to what I hope is the reality before me.
I think I know what I see.
To ask yourself what is real is to desire to know what you are allowed to enjoy.
But if I’m honest,
Between what I see through the screen, what I see outside, and what I imagine it truly is,
I’m not sure which one is worth believing in.
What I remember is actually quite simple:
You brought me here.
And here I stayed.
You know that I’ve tried.
To separate known from dream.
Am I cold or is it my imagination?
But I will always choose the cold.
I think I know what I see.
But if I’m honest,
I’m not sure which one is worth believing in.