day dreams

I dream of days where I am free from addiction, days filled with no cravings, obsessive thoughts, or reminders almost as if i wasn’t an addict. I also dream of days where I am doped out in my own little world, numb to all of my afflictions. Dreams of nodding out peacefully with an abundant amount of drugs, giving no end to my false sense of serenity.
—  Journal entry titled daydreams December 30th 2015
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CALLING ALL ARTISTS!

I’m starting a collaboration RE: Dreams, which will be a potential theme for one of our Season 2 episodes - RECord your thoughts, write a story, draw a picture, or make a song regarding this theme.

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ALL ARTISTS: Write a story, draw a picture, or make a song regarding this theme.

EVERYONE W/ A CAMERARECord a video testimonial regarding this theme, or specifically answer:

  • “Do your Dreams ever have meaning? Please give a specific example.”
  • “What is a memorable Nightmare you have had? Be specific.”
  • “What is a memorable Dream you have had? Be specific.”
  • “What are your Recurring Dreams? Do they give insight into your daily thoughts, fears and anxieties?”
  • “Are you living ‘The Dream?’ Also, what does that phrase even mean?”

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Contribute to the “RE: DREAMS” collab HERE!

Untitled

Louis: “This flight sucks,” he murmurs into your hair, “I’m bored and they only gave me on bag of pretzels.” You hum back half-heartedly, eyes scanning over the page of your book. He harrumphs pathetically, turning to stare out the window with a resolve lasting all of thirty-nine seconds. He whines then, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and biting there playfully, “pay attention to me!” he demands, placing his hands over your eyes so as to take your attention away from the book. Sighing, though you’re smiling, you shut the book and tuck it into your bag and he beams down at you, “hi! do you wanna play i-spy?” he asks quickly, kissing your cheek and squeezing your hand in his, “yes? okay i spy something really super pretty….”

Harry: “Do you know how cute you are?” he coos with a wide grin. You glare at him in the mirror, while he sits on the counter as you grumpily brush your teeth. With hair a mess and skin feeling decidedly subpar, you scowl at him and his antics and compliments; it’s way too early. He hums out in amusement, tapping you on the nose with his pointer finger, “cuter than a fruit,” he announces. You look up from the sink, giving him a disbelieving look, shaking your head and stalking out of the bathroom; he stumbles after you into the bedroom. “Heeeeeeeey, c'mon I’m being serious!” he exclaim, grabbing your wrists in both his warm hands, tucking kisses into your neck and the skin of your face until he’s got you giggling. “See?”

Niall: “C'mon, I don’t know the damn Pythagorean…whatever. Can I just get like, a four on this test and be over with it?” he whines, burying his face in the warmth of your bedsheets, kicking his legs with no abandon. Rolling your eyes, you refuse to let up and he sighs deeply, exaggeratedly. “Can we take a break-” he begins to ask, before shrinking back at your stern glare, “alright, alright, okay what is it again? Pythagorean Theory right? Theorem, that’s the one. Okay that’s the one with the triangles, yeah?” You nod encouraging, gesturing for him to go on, “it’s like, the two sides squared equals the last side, what’s the fuckin’ last side called? Hypothermia? Hyp- hyper, hypotenuse! Yes the two sides squared equals the hypotenuse squared! Am I right?” When you give him the affirmative, he beams, a kiss pressed to surprised lips.

Zayn: He scrambles through the house upon hearing the sound, bounding up steps and bursting through the bedroom door, “Hah! I knew it! I totally knew it was you who was putting all those Les Mis songs on my iTunes!” he exclaims with pride, as if anyone else would have done it. You roll your eyes, leaning up to kiss his lips sweetly, before turning back to the closet and arranging your shoes neatly on the rack. He chuckles, kicking off his boots and settling into more comfortable clothes, before joining you at the closet to help with your bout of spring cleaning. He twirls you around to the tune of the violin’s introduction, before dipping you so your hair skims the ground, singing with a glint in his eyes along to the track, “a heart full of love….”

Liam: “It’s sooooooooooo late,” he chuckles to himself, watching in amusement as you lie upside-down on the couch, legs kicking along rhythmically to your humming, his own position haphazardly sprawled over the arms of the sofa, “want a snack?” he asks, meeting your contented gaze. You shake your head, no, and roll over, all thrashing limbs and loud giggles until you’re perched beside him on the loveseat, his amused laugh filling the room, loud and rich and warm as he tugs you closer, tucking you into his side with giggly kisses pressed across your skin, any place he can reach without moving too drastically. He laughs out loud after a beat, before leaning in close, lips brushing over your ear in warm and breathy words, “hey, I’m a little bit in love with you.”

Masterlist

Clouds

Once upon a time
I lost my head
Amongst the clouds
And stars
They were shining so brightly
The light of reality
And life
Escaped me
And I drifted
Aimlessly
Amidst the heavens
In search of peace
A day dream
And bright beams
Of sunlight
On a summer day
Warmed my frigid heart
And from the start
I knew my feet
Would never touch
The firm earth again
But rather
Dance from cloud to cloud
In a waltz with the stars.

Original Work: KH 1/12/15

Day Dreams
  • Day Dreams
  • Amy Bruce Spaceshow
  • On Loving Myself and You
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You are the first thought I have in the morning and the last one before I sleep. You are my mornings afternoons and nights and the spaces in between the parts of my day when I don’t have to think. You are my day dreams you are just what I see when I find time to blink. And I get as low as I get high. I’m taking comfort in your company feel free to take it in mine. I’m following my heart and I’ll see where it takes me. It’s a start but I’ll love myself if you make me.

Amy Bruce Spaceshow - Day Dreams