I had this dream last night.
That I was dreaming.
In my dream within a dream I was swimming in creative.
The house I was in - the light was perfect.
The clothes - this beautiful texture and structure.
A weird doll on the bed - quilted out of every
gorgeous fabric I could think of.
I kept telling myself to wake up and write these down.
Draw pictures. Color these colors.
Somehow describe them so I wouldn't forget.
But I could only get out of one dream.
I was still within the first dream and couldn't seem to wake up.
This morning all I remember
is that there were amazing creative things.
That I can't remember.
Isn't it weird what our minds are capable of.
And won't even let us keep?