Mists

Things grow ever stranger. 

With each twisting breath, each twirling wisp of insanity curling towards oblivion, I can help but... Wonder. 

And change. 

And shift just as my surroundings do, a second vision playing itself out just behind my eyes, and sometimes I see it better than what is actually in front of me. 

I live through dreaming. 

My heart no longer a regularity, just a hectic drum of chaos, too loud, too quiet, too fast, too slow. 

It can't possibly be healthy to have an extremely hard, slow heartbeat. 

And yet. 

And yet, as the mists of my mind's eye close in over me, a quick check reveals just this, as if me, as I exist, is fading away ever so slowly, melding into this other universe I so easily touch. 

I'm simply stuck wondering, when it will end. 

When one side finally dominates the other, when life conquers dream or dream conquers reality.