My Dreams Have Clocks

My dreams have clocks, It is truly a terrifying thing.

I know, I see that look on your face, you think I’m crazy.

You’re about to ask me what the difference is, between a dream with clocks and without clocks.

But that’s just it don’t you see? Have you ever dreamed a dream in time? No!

A dream is a safe place… should be a safe place… I’m not quite sure anymore.

A dream should be infinite, instant, with no clearly defined sense of duration.

You should wake asking yourself just how long you spent inside your own head.

Your phone says an hour, but you feel like you just woke up from eternity

That’s what dreams should be, how they should feel…

But mine don’t

My dreams have clocks.

They’re everywhere, I can’t escape them.

They force me to watch, as time slips by. To count the seconds, the minutes, the hours, the days, the years…

I’m driven mad,  I’m driven sane, I’m driven mad again…

Because what can be more maddening than the imposition of a measure on the immeasurable?

What can be more frustrating than calculating the entirety of nothing… or everything for that matter?

Dreams are to be forgotten, to be remembered in only the vaguest of forms…

Dreams are not meant to be saved

To be measured

To be defined in such contrast…

It is truly terrifying

 

            Thank you for listening, I needed to pass the time somehow, even if you are a clock

            Yes, you’re just a stupid clock… like the rest of the stupid clocks….

            I dream about them you know, have I told you that?