When I woke, I found a morning I had not seen for a long time; it was a morning of contented rest. I have spent so long dragging my hapless soul across each minute of a waking night, that I had lost understanding of true sleep.
I would lie, eyes fastened, mind hovering, counting down the minutes to the morning, not a dream to be seen for 5 months. No horrifying life endangering experiences, no twisted misconceptions of reality, no bloodlust, no seductive beauties to be defiled and abused to fulfil my carnal desires. There was none of that, nothing fun, only work, and life, and pointless thoughts.
A charming herbal extract named valarian has brought back my sleep, and my sick twisted dreams. Oh how I had missed them.
I built a house of glass under the ground.
I was hunted by a man, trapped in a gas canister.
I drowned a woman with no face.
I dug a hole, that was my grave, and buried a man that stole my idea.
Fantasy is electric, I wish I could stay there.