Patch me up.

I find myself taking bits and pieces of other people to patch the "me" that I can't seem to complete.

So how does that leave me? Am I the me that I know I am? Or am I just another one of the great imitations?

And in my dreams, I see you.

You only know your dream has been fulfilled when it has come to pass.

I dreamt of him last week. Just like the old times, he was using his undeniable charm to sway us to his will. In this case, he was coaxing my mom to eat out since he knows a good place where good food is served at very cheap prices. You could see the sparkle in his eyes and that ever eager manner (just like a little boy who can't contain his excitement). My mom already convinced from the start was fighting hard to not give in right away. Eventually, she breaks into both a yes and a big smile at the same moment.

I need to hold on to memories like this.

Then, he invites my little sister instead of me to join them. (This came to be the ending I believe because of the preceding fight/argument I had with my siobe which made the feeling more painful than it already is.)

After I woke up, it took me about an hour after to realize that he came to be part of the dream I just had.

I guess it proves the same with real life dreams, you only get to realize it when your halfway through. What's worse is when you get to realize it when you're barely holding on to the dream you've already been living yet was too blind to appreciate.

The Black Sheep

In a family, there is a black sheep. The black sheep's existence is inevitable. The black sheep exists. The black sheep must exist. As if the universe dictates it to be so. In some parallel universe, the nature of things permits this fatal flow, this undeniable dent: the flow flawed, the flawed flow. And thus, it is so. So it is. It must be so. It is so. Sadly, it is.