It was a perfect dream. But a friend used to say that "Dreams are, and will always be, fleeting moments of insanity as unreal and unreachable as the sky".
The subconscious manifests in a time when your guard is down. Then it makes you realize the hopes and dreams that you try to discard but instead it got stuck somewhere in between your frontal lobe and limbic system.
Well, my dream was something out of a mumblecore film -- the walk, the talk and the profound candor. It was you, me and philosophical banter. Enough said. I might as well be sleep blogging and writing love notes and foolishly describing and adoring your eyes like some lovesick admirer.
This is the third consecutive time that I woke up at this weird hour when it's almost four. Hmmm what a bummer. Oh well.
I look up. The orange sky tells me its daylight soon. Okay.. coffee to get me started.
