leaky

The final stage of daydreaming, where the visions of the night bleed effortlessly across the conscious plane. Delightful distractions fade in and out like dissipating cloud formations, disappearing just before one can make out their shape. These peripheral pioneers, dewy imaginations which condense and drop, splattering in the mind's eye as color, shape, and sound. Creation, pure and simple. Like blood it flows and nourishes us all. Without it, the world regresses into a monochromatic pale. So I will never stop.