“The Waking Dream” by The Boy

I am stuck between two worlds and I cannot possibly exist in one of them. I am a creature made of fiction, created by the mind of an artist and influenced by his life’s path.

I am formless. I can be poetry; I can be prose. I can be analog or digital. I can be entertainment or I can be insightful. I can be relevant or I can be meaningless.

My brothers and sisters of the fictional world can inspire millions or fall on deaf ears. They can inspire nations to greatness or destroy civilizations. In the right ears, they can create leaders or inspire murderers. We are the collective race of mankind’s dream to rise above its reality.

But my question to myself is: am I to live in the heart of millions… or will I die alone? That is the fear of any art form.

I will try my best in spite of this reality, for I am not real…

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