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6:30 a.m. (Waking to Nothing) where are my dreams?
do they vanish in the air? or do they gestate into transformative bodies of ideas, crawling and rolling naked from their own beds before disappearing forever, replaced by new dream mutations in a blinding flash - a pulsing cycle of birth and rebirth existing within me yet never revealing itself how do I claim my dreams? must my head explode outward? releasing angels and demons, spirits and souls, flying, clawing, moaning and longing, freed from an empty existence to reality, or should I sit in the corner of my existence - refusing to face my hopes and fears yet yearning forever to know them where are my dreams?
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