At first, it was a coping mechanism. I was lost; I wanted a way back to the way things used to be, a way to be somewhere other than where I was. I slept so I could dream.
The means become the end, though. Isn’t that always the way? Just like any drug. Now, I don’t sleep to dream; I sleep to sleep.
It passes the time.
It was Hamlet, wasn’t it, who asked what dreams may come in the sleep of death?
I don’t dream anymore.
I hope there aren’t any dreams in death. I’m looking forward to it.
I am stumped, stumped, stumped.
ReplyDeletesoooooo close...
ReplyDeleteOh, depression. I like it.
ReplyDelete........dhole
Nice. Like Loren, I'm stumped.
ReplyDeleteIf it helps at all, there's one word for each entry, and those words as a whole might just have some sort of connection...
ReplyDelete(This wasn't written to be a puzzle, so deliberate clues aren't really a part of it. This is more "Can you read Nathan's mind?" than "Can you figure out this cunning wordplay?")