Should I write it down?
People would just think I’m crazy.
But they don’t understand what I’ve seen.
As I pace in front of my desk, I see the visions come at me once more.
I just can’t constrain them to the ink on the papers all nailed to the wall, they have to come out, they have to bleed their stories of other worlds drifting around on multitudinous clusters of universes, in a vast black space where time bleeds and ends and universes dance in their own relative constraints, like stars or planets in our own little universe.
I just can’t keep them within anymore.
They struggle, they burn, moreover, they just want to seek, seeking the eyes and ears of patrons of this other world, filling them up with the strange alien sounds of music and shuffling of other creatures from galaxies in other worlds, where physics cannot be kept under its reins and breaks out in a flurry of agitation.
Where science is simply lost to the void of magic and eldritch truth.
Where magic co-exists with science, bringing forth new ideas, new life, and love.
Where neither exist, only beholden to creatures with an intense longing to see normalcy once and for all.
I can’t control them much longer…Adexgfhijkjlo;;”;’
I think I’ve upturned a few keys on my keyboard.
Why not give in?
Their stories must be given to the world, right?
So with a shaking hand I reach my keyboard, and let myself get sucked in again.
Back to where the dreams take me.
Back to where I can write their clamouring voices onto paper again.