Dreams

don't they trample the sequential reality like a simultaneous layered domino effect of suspicious inactivity. Before cause and effect, much of our doings were amended through thoughts of objectivity and subjectivity. Polarity seasons narrating stories from humble murmurs of the heart's pulse. Through in and Through within, wandering, and falling through portals of dimensional surfaces. Running without time means running without a rhythm that's syncopated with beatnik tribals of the carbon footprints. Dreams are then nothing but a scheduled cause of mayhem inside the objectified interiors; we encase probability inside..