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A Writer's Dream


My dreams have changed and I don't mean my wishes and hopes, but the stories my brain makes up after falling asleep.

I used to dream all the time, weird stories of strange places. Sometimes they would be new and other times reocurring. I could even make them turn out the way I wanted them to, not always, but sometimes.

It seems that for the past several months my sleep has been relatively dreamless or rather I haven't been paying attention. However, in the last week that has all changed. I am now waking with remnants of dreams on my mind. They are still strange, but there's a slight difference in the way they run through my mind. If I dream about the beach my barefeet are no longer just walking through the sand. The sand is now caramel coloured and squishes up through my bare toes. The cold ocean waves are now a black sea with hints of blue as the churning waters crash onto the shore. My dreams have become more descriptive, like paragraphs in a novel. It's a little strange but who knows maybe some more story ideas will be born from these descriptive dreams, though they'll have to tone down a little. They are sometimes just too weird.

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