I sit in this chair, staring into the screen.
Scrolling through articles,
Mindlessly
Imagining myself somewhere else.
Maybe in a dream.

I'm standing, yet sitting.
Yelling, yet whispering.
Running, yet walking.
In this dream, I am everywhere else.
Not in a dream.

I am in the screen, staring at the chair.
I am falling through media.
Each article, drowning me

Each notification, I lose a piece of who i should be.
If only i pull away from these mindless games.
I could be what a person would be.

Free.
From the mass media of society.
From all its natural hierarchy.

Free.

In an early morning dream I was sat next to a woman on a train whom I fell in love with.

Her captivating smile and red hair are but a few figments of that dream that yet linger in my memory.

Entranced by a conversation I cannot recall, and infatuated with a woman I cannot picture, I eagerly fall asleep at night, moronically hoping she'll come again.

What I do remember of our dreamly encounter I cherish with great pleasure. I cannot help but feel paradoxically content yet bothered by the realization my most recently cherished conversation is one I have, in fact, never had.

In an early morning dream she came, and for the briefest of moments filled my world with warmth and endless curiosity. And just like the ether from which she came, she withered into inexistence upon my awakening.

You are a star
shining at your best
in the vastness of the sky
among beautiful moon and sun

And I am a moth
Happy even with the lights of an electric bulb
How I wish
I could sit next to you and your brightness

But,
I know
that dream is too big
and I am doomed with this artificial light

I see you
from here on earth
amid the dust and dirt
your dreamly image in the sky

You light of the sky
Filling the darkness
with a twinkling lights
and making me in awe every night

I console my heart
at least
I could see you from a distance
and be happy on my own little world

I console my heart
Some dreams are
too beautiful
to become a reality