WeAreTheDream

 “I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I’m not. No one really ever gets used to nightmares.”  - Mark Z. Danielewski, ‘House of Leaves.’ It was silent. Still. There was neither the distant roar of engines nor the echo of gunfire, just the chirping of cicadas as they sang their repetitive melodies. It was a pleasant sound, calming almost. All the inhabitants of the desert were thankful for the night, for the cool air that it brought. It was a welcomed relief from the relentless heat that the sun radiated. It was indeed a rigid and sun scorched wilderness that the Ki

 “I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I’m not. No one really ever gets used to nightmares.”  - Mark Z. Danielewski, ‘House of Leaves.’ It was silent. Still. There was neither the distant roar of engines nor the echo of gunfire, just the chirping of cicadas as they sang their repetitive melodies. It was a pleasant sound, calming almost. All the inhabitants of the desert were thankful for the night, for the cool air that it brought. It was a welcomed relief from the relentless heat that the sun radiated. It was indeed a rigid and sun scorched wilderness that the Ki