Daydreams in the Atrium

"A gaggle of clones chattering to the birds"

A shrine of art for the friendship lost

Each drawing a memory, a daydream I languish in.

I got so connected to these daydreams that my fear became tangible, and I was teetering on confusing the dream with reality. I've always been afraid of pyschologists. I'm just scared of the one who would see through me too well. Who might tell me what I was too afraid to hear. Who might push me towards it if he saw me slip, watched my smile at the idea. But it was he who whispered that Elysium must not burn. And here I am in its blaze.

I won't post everyone out of respect- I dont know how much of the gang you'd even want me posting tbh

My mental 'therapist' had over time become H. My own personal Stag. He warned me. I was drawing too close. But I'd wanted to hear it from you. I craved the answer you would give me. But I never could bring myself to really ask and express. I only spoke in vague lines. Nothing that could really provide proper information. Because thats what ive learned to do. Dance around the topic instead of asking out right. i'm scared H would have agreed. Would have told me I had been right all along. But there would have been peace in that I think. I don't know what you saw in me W. We never saw the same thing though.

I still linger in those memories. I'm waiting in the cabin for someone to arrive. Staring out the window like I did when i was little. Waiting for something, someone to show up. If I venture too far will I get in trouble? The chain feels heavy with no one to hold it. Color has been lost except in glimmers when I think I see them. A glimpse of his eyes in the trees. But its just the Birch staring back.

I got too close, too confused. Dreams become memories for me. I told you I wouldn't let things get confused but I was falling deeper in. I spent a lifetime in dreams alone with you. Too me they were real. But I knew they weren't for you, that you didn't see them. Weren't actually there. I fabricated whole lives in my mind. And they bled into my feelings Irl. Confused me. It wasn't fair of me and yet i couldn't stop my mind from doing it. Those little escapes to other places. Living different adventures with each of you.

And now in our distance my mind fabricates reasons, conclusions so I could find peace.

You told me once, in his memories Carol was dead. That always bothered me. To me she has always been alive and prominent. To think of her dead didn't make sense. She had no conclusion, I gave her multiple lives too. Failed outcomes each for the most part. And yet one death just meant waking to another. Very true to the Cathari path of vtm. It always made me sick to hear you thought her dead when she weighed on me so heavily.

newer art posted top, then descending order from there