Brenna's Scribbles

[Lilly Love]

Writing has always been one of the best ways I have had to express myself: from poetry to short stories to journaling to songwriting. I don't claim to be the best at it (and grammar and spelling are not exactly my strong suits) but it is something I love to do.

I use to try to keep journals, but because of how I hold my pencil, my hand gets tired quickly and I can't write down my thoughts as quickly as they come. However, I am exceptional at typing and can basically keep up with my brain this way. I have gotten away from writing as much in recent years, ironically probably during the times I needed it the most, but I want to get back into it again. However, I always feel pretty stupid just writing things in a journal that no one is ever gonna read. I mean, what's the point in creating something that no one else is going to get to enjoy?

So I decided, what better place to put my writings than here? I know I haven't been back for long, and even when I was here before it was short Lived (see what I did there??), but Hammel was a real home to me for a while and the people here are amazing. There is no one else I would rather share my attempts at writing with!

I am just gonna write stuff. I don't know what that stuff will be yet (majorly because I haven't written it yet) but whatever stuff I do write, I shall put it here. Please feel free to comment your thoughts, criticisms (yes I want you tell me what you don't like), praise (I mean, if you like something), whatever!

Anywho, I hope you enjoy my scribbles ^_^

Brenna

[Lilly Love]

Dreaming

A dream isn't real; I know that. It's just a bunch of random stuff your brain makes up while you sleep, either pulling from memories, emotions, or who the hell knows what. The craziest thing about a dream though is that it feels real. It's like every night I get sucked away into an alternate reality. I would think that eventually, after dreaming for years and years, I'd learn to recognize a dream for the fake reality that it is but almost every night I seem to get tricked again. Most people seem to enjoy sleep and their dreams, waking up and being able to laugh at the strangeness of it all, but not me. When I dream, my dreams are riddled with the things I wish I had. It's like every night my head plays out a million situations that I wish would happen but it completes it with whatever ending I seem to fear the most. So when I wake up, I feel this bitter sweat ache in my chest, a mix of pain and longing: pain for all the crap I had to go through that wasn't even real and longing that it would be real instead of this dreary reality.