JonBingus

I forgot most of the dream, but for one part. I look around, and I am in my childhood home. I am upstairs, and immediately instinct tells me to run to the attic. All is the same when I get there. The desk, the computer, the chair and floor mat, and most importantly, the smell. That same musky smell from all those years ago, still burned into my mind so that at any moment I now know I can return there in the dream world and simply be. What a comforting feeling. If a place can live on in such purity long after it is gone, it gives me hope that when the day comes and someone has passed in my life, they will still live on in me. Amen.