Something quite so funny, but not as funny when you think about it.

Her boobs were surreal, and kept growing inside my mind as the dream expanded on. And she was there, within me a times --// obsession solely fixated on her.

In reality I've met her rarely, I even asked her out once though an immediate no would arise from then and left me stranded, ...given the age difference?....her dream resents me... . .. ..

Each sequence would leave me with a different feeling of following
-
perhaps... the most colorful of them all. Was when I had to make an impression to her dad, he owned a car fixing company out in the fields... ..

-following her through the woods, seemingly resenting me though like her father, summer was overriding....... .. . .. .... ..

...a canvas
fluttering of butterflies and dotted skirts as I
struggled to reach them...

her's
is only an obstacle.

When it tried to escape me, my mind would relocate...and she was there again...until I was totally captivated again...

...a sequence like a spiral overhanging frames of different occasions and settings.

She'd eventually drown in a blur, until I was where and when and how

-already forgotten-

...and on my day to work like it was supposed to be...

((( I'd realise just what this dream like a gateway was a parallax in front of her and I remembered for whats remembered for w-h-a-t-s -reememb-e ))) - -r ed
it's
only
... differential... .. .. .

For she's a whole package whilst I am not, a match in spirit but appearance
naught.

Dreams and reality are usually separate, but this one ended in a grey like matter though a distinctive resemblance to one another as the moral of this story, so my dream. My utter subconsciousness was telling me how to forget the whole damn thing, to let go. And I was laughing to myself for a moment thinking, but even something quite so funny, is not as funny when you think about it, at all.