dreams. (day/night/day)

public self, private self, self.
destruction. reflection. resurrection.

suddenly i see that the picture on my wall is a door and it leads to a hall full of roots. big, twisted, earthy roots made of flesh weaving and snaking their way around each other to another doorway that is casting a reddish glow and from the room comes a high pitched drone not describable by words, but rather emotions. anger. fear. love. sadness and optimism, seemingly together but separate, i could pick each one out distinctly not so much in layers but in twisting, weaving pulsations like the roots i was unconsciously crawling over to see what was inside the room at the end of the hallway. suddenly i was overcome by every one of those emotions and felt them (it?) weave its way from my through my legs and around my waist and in through my chest. at the edge of the room i peered inside and saw a lady with her mouth sewn shut, and had the unmistakable feeling that this is where it all began.

i dont hate you. i just hate you right now.