Hegemony

"What is exactly wrong about describing a nightmare?" You asked me.
I looked at you. I hardly juxtapose with my long gone teen reads. These are all revered windcatcher sounds, still changes me within a second. Sounds and speed, casual and vocal modulation.

I fear for a death. I die. I lie. And I come back. As I, and all my morning was an utter wastage. They told me so.

Frequency is an attribute to mould your habit. But you are also true, not always the frequnt merphy's law about you.

Unwanted , rejection and no build alternative. Then it is hundred times easier to focus there. As there is no expectation, there is no heartbroken seriousness too.

"You did not answer me. What is wrong about describing a nightmare?"
They do. They preach. And they heal. But these are all homesickness. They say so.
After the longest day, they are still nothing more than a white lie.
I once existed.
Hegemony.

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