Just past midnight, awakening from another nightmare. I grabbed my voice recorder and recorded a message. I do my best composing in my sleep, in the middle of a dream or a nightmare. Here is that message....
Depression: The pill that dulls, deafens and dims. Effective, efficient and enigmatic. Time is diminished to routine and duty. No more emotion than demanded. Stealing souls and hiding truths. How can anyone escape thru eyes wide shut?
I love my voice recorder. Sometimes I wonder where this creative flow goes when consiousness takes over?
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