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Insomia Nightmare

I can’t breath…
The air has turned to sand.
I gasp and my lungs fill with the sand.
I am sure I am dead now.
Or am I just asleep?

I awake and the door on the side of the room opens.
A man enters.
He is wearing black.
His face is bleeding.
His hair is moving.
His eyes are single stars glistening among black holes.
The eyes are beautiful.
Then the stars are eaten by the black holes.
His dark eyes pain me to look at.
Then he utters to me, “MOMENTO MORI”.
He is gone now.

The walls do not close in on me,
But they flee.
They are getting farther and farther away.
They are so far gone all that is left is the floor and the ceiling.
But even they trade positions without notice.
The ceiling falls upward.

Now it is just the floor and I.
He fell as I tried to rise.
Now He is gone too.
I guess he couldn’t take the pressure of me standing on him.

I fall through the Black.
Nothingness.
Void.
Abyss.
Then Light.

A swirl of darkness and light.
I see something that is neither dark nor light.
It emerges and I enter.
I walk through the passage to find myself back in the room.
Then I realize that I am dead.
Dead! I will never sleep and have these terrible nightmares again.
And…I can breathe now.
Then the air turns to sand.

-Andrew Hochradel

Insomia Nightmare

pulseproj

Riverside, United States

  • Artist
    Notes
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait
desktop tablet-landscape content-width tablet-portrait workstream-4-across phone-landscape phone-portrait

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