The best secrets are the secrets we keep from ourselves, our dreams.
The nocturnal narratives that play about in our minds as we slumber peacefully.
Nothing satisfies the subconscious more than the dream.
And we, afraid of what the dream may become, try our hardest to interpret and to remember.
We live for the sentimental. And sometimes I think that life is about wanting what we know we can’t have.
It’s about wondering how we would do things over again, how we could do things differently.
But it’s in our dreams that we are able to have all of the fun.
Because in reality, we know that nothing really ever changes. And that everything was supposed to happen.
So we continue with the secrets; the subtle hints help fool us into thinking that things will change.
And all the while we let time fool us into missing the world as it passes by.
So I’ll continue to reminisce on the dream.