⠀⠀⠀when⠀the⠀𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨⠀𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥⠀leaves ⠀⠀⠀you⠀𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴⠀and⠀𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘆⠀─── ⠀⠀⠀𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑⠀⠀⠀brings⠀⠀⠀you⠀⠀⠀here. ⠀⠀⠀TO⠀𝐌𝐄⠀──⠀TO⠀𝐌𝐘⠀𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐌.
Joined June 2015
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( Is that a purse to his lips? Perhaps. Death has always had a way to make even Dream feel young again. )
I am bracing myself against the torrent of admonishment that is sure to come from you.
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Great, some might say. And certainly old. But what I am transcends far beyond what you understand to be the reality you live in.
I am every story inside your head. I am the voice you hear when you surrender into slumber. I am the grass you walk upon and the very oceans you had
I could say the same about you, my sister.
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We have. Many times. Though your forgetting is simply the consequence of your nature within the tapestry of existence—it is not that you have been forced, by some will greater than yours.
Dreaming is creation, yet it is also forgetting. You must forget in order to continue on.
You are mistaking the definition for a verdict. An accusation is simply conjecture without evidence.
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I fail to perceive the point of your accusations.
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I think, sister. Perhaps more to the issue is that I think too much, not too little.
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You would be the first to accuse me of such folly.
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I have not needed your chaperone for aeons, sister.
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