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Description

it's eleven thirty-six pm and all is silent. but in the dark atmosphere of the unlit house, a stranger creeps through the dreams of it's inhabitants. He is the shadow in their imaginative sleep-stories, the part that doesn't make sense. But he is also the part they remember. He slides between behind their eyelids and plays with their minds like it's a card game. He gambles with their sanity. But he's unpredictable. Like the weatherman being wrong, he never does all damage. He leaves a grain of hope and fortune everywhere, the crust in your eyes when you wake up. The promise that dreams are only dreams and reality is only reality.

LOL I don't know, it was just a doodle at first. I just wrote that ^ so if it's wierd then that's why.

Description

it's eleven thirty-six pm and all is silent. but in the dark atmosphere of the unlit house, a stranger creeps through the dreams of it's inhabitants. He is the shadow in their imaginative sleep-stories, the part that doesn't make sense. But he is also the part they remember. He slides between behind their eyelids and plays with their minds like it's a card game. He gambles with their sanity. But he's unpredictable. Like the weatherman being wrong, he never does all damage. He leaves a grain of hope and fortune everywhere, the crust in your eyes when you wake up. The promise that dreams are only dreams and reality is only reality.

LOL I don't know, it was just a doodle at first. I just wrote that ^ so if it's wierd then that's why.