i think i was dreaming about you. or you being there in the phantasmal form of physical absence. but then i could hardly remember any narrative fragments as soon as i woke up, as usual. except a few.
the haunting dream which i’ve once depicted to you in great detail remains engraved in my mind, like an inscript on my banally wasted past. somehow your aura always appears to be eerily distorted when it comes to dreams. but still, i get painfully mesmerized every time, because it reminds me of the weight of being, and that what i’ve chosen to endure.
i could only hold on to myself and solely myself. but i’ll always have you staying in my dreamscape, speechlessly and profoundly humble.