# Off-Topic Discussion > Artists' Corner >  >  I am in the Wrong Reality

## LambDocK

Skies of violent purple, and grass of vibrant blue, pulse with the beat of life. Stand still. Time stops, life is on pause and I am free to roam. There are no people where I am, no car alarms or dogs barking, radios once blaring give off no sound. The world is on mute. Silence invades all. And the motion, the landscape around me is in constant movement, constant change; the sun is a blur across the sky plunging into the horizon only to reappear on the other side. The sun speeds up, faster and faster until there is no difference between day and night; both bleed in to each other and form a constant twilight. I am happy in this silence and light. I am free to do as I wish.
Realization. Sparked by the question of where I was, snow balls in the understanding of where I am. Waves of excitement and joy come crashing over my mind. Darkness. Cant open eyes or all will be lost. Calm down. Relax. It will still be there. Surroundings come into focus; first is the sensation is cold, the stationary light  is trying to break through the fog that sits over the lake that was not here a moment before. Details fill themselves in slowly. I stand on the end of a dock that thrusts into the water that goes on forever. The silence still swallows all. Realization for a second time. Need to be more careful, keep the mind in check. Take it slow. Focus on the small details that fill themselves in before my eyes. The dock is old and rotting but has the feeling of happy memories of the past; of when children ran shrieking  to the edge of the dock, many tumbling into the water that could not stop in time. Come back to my present tense. Control.
I am the controller of time and space; feelings and actions, this is my reality and I can form it in to any thing, I can compose it beyond my imagination or destroy it with out lifting a finger. This world is my playground and I take the place of God. 
 I step off the pier and walk out in to the middle of the lake. The water is not frozen, its not even cold, and yet it supports me for I will it to. This is my playground. Need a change of scenery, a different mind set, some place warmer, where the silence is not over powering. The water disappears into the fog on all sides; there is nothing and yet I know that there will be a door directly behind me. It looks more worn and water logged than the dock and yet it holds more energy. It pulsed with noise that was still muted by the silence of the fog. What is on the other side? What is it I want to be on the other side? This is my playground. I am God.
Stepping threw the door feels like stepping threw liquid which pulls and pushes at the same time, undecided as to whether it wants me in or out. I tumble into noise. The crowd, one solid mass, one solid noise, and yet I can hear each individual calling to me to hear their story.
In this would, I can be anything, I can play the role of the hero or the villain, the bold or the shy, the handsome or the ugly. I am all at the same time. This is the place where I take out my anger, for pain is non existent; this is the place where I show my sadness, for tears are non existent; but most importantly, this is were I form my ideas. For my audience is solely my subconscious. He is the only one that remembers the future. I am God, but he is my maker.
Darkness. This time I have to open my eyes; I have to come back into this second existence. Wake up. I am in some ones elses reality, in some one elses playground. With out dreams there would be no second reality.

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