Dream a little dream

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: True Confessions  |  House: Booksie Classic
heartbreak/ache, alcoholism, content with unethical behavior

Submitted: December 10, 2011

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Submitted: December 10, 2011

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His vision grew impaired. Every heartbeat could be felt throughout his body, and although he stood still, everything within started to sway form left to right, as if his soul was crossing a commando bridge. With every blink the lights from modern civilization started to fade. Until he fell. And their he laid. Next to a puddle of his own formerly digested addiction. Human waste, a stained carpet, and a bottle of Jack. There would be no regrets come sun up. Those two hours, regardless of how short, despite that they did not provide anything memorable enough to speak of or even reflect on, they did provide a smile. More smiles than reality seemed to provide as of recent. In fact it was a escape form reality. There were no thoughts of the depressing stories told on your daily news channel. No thoughts of loved lost. No thoughts of the daughter he couldn’t provide with a father. He wouldn’t remember what it was that made him smile, but the memory of a smile would provide all the motivation needed for a reenactment at a later date.

So there he laid. Ready to dream thee American Dream, only to wake and realize that the American Dream was just that. A dream of an American who would dream of his or her hopes and dreams, only to later wake up to the realization that it was all just a dream.


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