If I were in fact asleep, I would prefer to have a flying dream where all my troubles are lifted from my back and placed squarely on the shoulders Atlas where they belong. I can zoom across the sky, carefree, light, going only towards welcoming horizons.
If I were awake, I should like to be creating some brilliant piece of art. A pretty song. A gorgeous painting. A whole novel written in a week like you hear the geniuses describe on NPR.
As I'm neither sleeping nor completely together, I'm moving through the day, but uncomfortably so.
All images by Taylor Marie McCormack