later, they will contextualize his dreams and disturbances by saying that they were prescient, and a harbinger for things to come. they always do that, those scientists in their clean white smocks, dissecting things after the fact...

i had the nightmare. it was a dream of a bad dream sequence played back again and again. i told someone i didn't want to see it, i told them there was a chance that something might get out, but my voice isn't heard in dreams. i just watch. and they played it again and again, and with each iteration, things stayed the same, but things got worse and worse...

i can no longer imagine a different world, with a different ending. it is as though i were physically incapable of asking for what i want. the thread that i am has been woven in, and it has no freedom to fray and stray. i am a participant in this reality (some might say i create it, but that notion is far distant, like the whirring of a fly). i want things to be different (who wouldn't), but there is no capacity to imagine, must less believe, in an alternative...

the best an individual can do is to be gentle, be kind, be human. i am these things. perhaps that is why the dreams come. but then again, perhaps that is why the dreams can go no further...

children are not the ones we save. they are our salvation. and i will die at their feet, knowing what i know and seeing what i have seen, before i allow their innocence to be stained. i want them to live, intact and beautiful. that is my purpose...