A Series Of Dreams

Lately my life feels like a series of dreams. I wake up in a new place and feel my recent memories slipping away, as if my past were as concrete as the world I find myself in each time I drift away to sleep. Shards of personalities stay with me, and names do not. If I were omniscient – above the realm of vicissitudes – I could follow myself trailing through the places I go. Yet I’m losing out on the things I know. I can only hope that I’ll approach the territory of waking dreams, where knowing pales compared to feeling.