A galaxy of broken dreams. (caption) It was midnight. I was sick, and I was tired. I was sick and tired of these intense bouts of a recurring dream where I was among some tribal people who had their scary spears spiked at me. It looked like some sort of investigation, some kind of justice they were after. Yes, they were after me, and I couldn't flee. The jungle was unknown and mysterious. So unknown that it made me even more sick. When awake, I was scared of this dream. When in dream, I was afraid I would be tied horizontal with fire beneath me. It happened throughout the night, the bouts of intense sickness. And then it was morning. I woke up to the fiery sun with fury in his eyes. The window allowed him to burn bad my already burning skin. My head was throbbing empty dreams that were forming a spiral right in front of my eyes. In no time, I had a galaxy of broken dreams presented to me. Some stars showed all my regrets, some reminded me of all my failures, some rewinded the compilation of all my clumsy awkwardness, and the dark matter showed what it shows best— darkness. The galaxy also showed some better days of my life, but they all got devoured in the middle of the spiral, one by one. I was a physical and emotional wreck, shipwrecked in the middle of a stormy ocean with tides extremely keen to wipe out my whole existence. Whole day, I kept thinking of the days when I felt whole with somebody. Nothing made sense now, so much so that I didn't want to get off the bed to go to the bathroom. To block out the crazy sun, I put another pillow over my head, attempting to escape from something I couldn't even see. It was heartbreaking, not the attempt to escape but the feeling of what I had turned into. It should not have been happening to me, not me. Sometime during the day, I got up to pee. I had my eyes so blurry that I thought I was disappearing. When I came back to the bed, I saw comfort and misery cheering for me. "What is the point of such comfort and misery?" I asked myself. I didn't have an answer. So I sneaked back on the bed, this time even more empty, looking blankly at the ceiling, and holding back tears on my lifeless eyes. It should not have been happening to me, not me.
