One night I dreamed I was a butterfly, and when I woke up, I was made to remember I was human. But then again, it made me wonder, "Was I a human dreaming as a butterfly, or Am I a butterfly dreaming as a human?"

The mind -- such a forbidding power given to man; it can create a world of thoughts that can be as illusory as it was real. It can be man's worst threat when unrestrained and allowed to drift aimlessly into a mirage. And how scary the mind can be, when it overpowers the heart, denies the logical, and confuses the reality with the unreal?

Drown with the thoughts.

Like gasping for air to breathe,
Yet nothing comes in but illusions ...

Like reaching out for a hand,
But you continue to sleep some more ...

Like struggling to resurface,
But being swallowed into the depths ...

Falling, cold, lifeless -- almost.

I've been gone for almost two months. And those two months had gone by like the rising tides and their secession. The moments that passed I could barely recall, my memories I couldn't trust as if what did happen were in bewilderment with my vivid dreams.

What was real? What was not? I couldn't remember, or maybe at the back of my mind, it says it doesn't want to remember.

What were in my memories? What were in the past? Just what did happen? I wonder. Like there was once a time when I placed everything inside a flask and sealed it like Pandora's box. And now, as if I always held the key, I wanted to look what was hidden inside, yet I wouldn't want to unlock, as if I was told I should not.

Were there bitter incidents? What happened to the happy memories? Just why the melancholy? I slept. I was lost. I was out for a long time. But now I have already found myself again. Like feeling like an empty vessel, drifting aimlessly where no one knows where; now I found my sail and shall follow my star, which always shone brightly, hovering at me on the clear night sky.

In sleeping, I dreamed. I missed life. I lost to my reality. When awake, it was as if I was not. I spent my days with fuzzy memories, like everyone wore their masks. I tried to live, but it felt like I wanted to die. Or did I?

I missed a lot of things.

The love I have for writing, which was sporadic for so many years.
As if my passion only burned seasonally.

The love I have for drawing, which I substituted with many other things.
As if my desire I had allowed to replace.

The love for my violin, which I had thoughtlessly neglected.
As if I was scared to play another whimsical song.

The love for photography, which I shamelessly discarded.
As if to be apathetic could make me give up my ambition.

The love I have for myself, which I have longed yet denied.
As if it could make me anyone better.

But now, I am already awake. I will no longer dream. And I'll be living more than I was sleeping. Until the time comes, when I have to sleep again, indefinitely.

Postscript.
I miss my family too. And I've been dreaming of them even when I was sleeping. And I've been studying accounting in my dreams too. I had fun watching Skip Beat, Earl and Fairy, and Vampire Knight Guilty in my reveries; and the PGE, OHSHC and FMA manga updates were plenty too. And there was one episode in my dream where I wrote a poem for our University Week and I won first place and the medal I received was a keyholder! Haha. So much for sleeping and dreaming.

This journal entry was posted (woo. sounds like accounting) to complement my mood: dejected - "kuno". Moi is being carried away by the piano melodies playing on the background while composing this text. Glad for the diversion. I ended up making a good entry, when I could just have simply said: "Weee~ I'm back at blogging and so and so. Whew..." Lolz.