Where do dreams come from?
I'm running from someone who's trying to hurt me. I turn back and face him or her and win the fight only to find out that the world's exploding. I turn back to the torrent of fire and lava, smoke filling my lungs. I can't breathe. Everyone who runs with me burns with me. Nobody's holding hands and nobody utters loving words. We just embrace the nothingness that follows. The rest is silence in all of its levity. This is the unbearable lightness of not being.
I wake up and realize that I died in my sleep.
Can't go back to bed now.
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