Entry?

This isn’t a poem. This isn’t a story. This isn’t a flower of inspiration. These are simply strands of thought chained together in hopes that they somehow will make sense.

Believe what you will.

 

It’s all been just a dream

I thought it would end, but I’m still in stasis

I’m being taunted. Mocked. Made fun of.

The desires are so close, yet when I reach for them, something pulls them away.

They’re replaced with signs that say "Not meant to be" or "Needs more time"

But when is it enough? Why am I being tortured so?

What’s the point of being here if it’s the same story as before?

Nobody can answer these questions, I guess.

I run into brick walls that force me to turn around.

I’d rather be outside, in the cool breeze, rather than stuck in here.

Pitch white gets a little boring after a while.

It wasn’t always like this, though.

I was once so very close to the end. I was so close, that I could feel its warm radiance.

Though soon after, I got catapulted so far back that I’m not even sure where I am anymore.

I tried reading that letter, and it gave instructions, but it wasn’t what I needed.

Instead, I decided to walk a bit towards where I’d been flung.

Time had torn everything I once knew about that path into something different

Something I’d never seen before.

I feel..like I’d been sleeping for its entirety.

How long was I out for?

Gah..my head hurts. Things are backwards, and I’m still trying to catch up.

There are so many questions, but nobody is around who could answer them.

Maybe I’ll keep walking and see if I recognize anything.

Or maybe..I’ll just lie down here and hope that everything turns out okay.