I come to bed every night knowing everything is messed up and wrong. Yet, I come here because it is my only escape. After an entire day of being exposed to just life and anxiety, I come here to run away. I tuck myself under this heavy blanket to feel the warmth. A blanket made up of fantasy-woven stories and an unrealistically soft world. Lying underneath these layers of pies in the sky, a part of me keeps reassuring the others that we still have a few more hours of warmth until we go out to the cold again. I have built this castle so high in the air with pillars of angelic fables and myths. I sometimes move around out in the cold with my bubble of reverie around me. A very small part of me, aware of this hoax, sad about this lie, whimpers in hopelessness. She knows it is all a fabrication of dreams and yet she also knows except for this wool-gathering quilt, I am nothing but dust.
- Oizys.
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