Ever woken up feeling that unsettling sense of dread, the kind that sticks to you like the humid air before a storm? You know, the one where your dream felt
I remember a time, not so long ago, when a particularly vivid dream left me with a metallic taste in my mouth and a knot of anxiety in my stomach.
I remember those moments, quite vividly actually, when I had a burning idea, a truly profound thought, but the words just… evaporated. It felt like I was standing in front
Ever found yourself standing there, feet on an escalator, only for it to grind to a halt? That sudden jolt, the momentary suspension – I know that feeling all too
I remember a time, not so long ago, when a whispered name in a dream would send shivers down my spine. Was it a divine call? A warning? Or just
I remember a night, years ago, when the scent of rain lingered heavy in the air, and I woke with a jolt, the lingering sensation of something vital having snapped.
I remember standing there, the cold seep of anxiety wrapping around my chest like a tight band. It was a few years back, after a particularly unsettling dream where a
I remember the first time I truly felt the sting of wasted effort. It wasn’t a grand failure, not a public collapse, but a small, quiet defeat in my own
I remember a period in my life, maybe a decade ago, where every time I closed my eyes, it felt like I was facing a spiritual roadblock. I’d frequently dream
I remember standing there, my throat tight, the words caught somewhere between my chest and my lips. It was a recurring nightmare, this feeling of having something vital to say
