The Weight of the Body

The first hour of the waking is when I lose my understanding of this plain plane to occupy before my return to dreaming. The realm where constant change stems from its ignorance of made-up human rules, where the sky can be walked on and swum in, where no records are kept of who you are or what you represent. During this hour I am left to contemplate why am I burdened to remember the vivid construction and never more than a glimpse of the blissful chaos.

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