dreams to realities

When I’m cold inside, you know, like in your body, I take long walks through the city, usually at night, and in deep thought. This city is confusing; lots of bridges and buildings that intertwine and swirl together with the natural din of humanity. During the day, I traverse the life of this city, stopping frequently looking for shortcuts and back alleys, running into people that don't know me from Adam. I am nothing like Adam. I have more secrets than the Vatican. A deeper reality than any philosopher could fathom. I am great and small, valiant and humble. Invisible if you are not aware and indefinite with reason.


In the middle of this city is a plaza with white marble squares, elegantly laid in the directions of traffic. Vanishing points are viewable from every angle made  by paths of crisscrossed bridges, seemingly toppled or stacked on top of each other, outward from the center of the city in different directions, a finely tuned manmade valley. Although the feeling is that an earlier more, advance culture built this place. The bridges are ornate, somewhat Victorian in style with lamp posts on every corner boasting fleur-de-lis entanglements, set in silver magnifying the luminescent glow that paints the streets and lower levels of the buildings. At night, shown through the spaces between the bridges and buildings, the light cast shadows that frighten even the sanest of entities. I get lost in the maze of streets and alleys at night on purpose. I’m never scared or haven’t been, not in a long time.

The only difference between here and your world is that this world is made completely of alleys and backroads. Every door here is a backdoor. And I fail existance in your world.
Orange light spreads into the street from a door left open a gap. I don’t live here and they are not really expecting me. As I step into the light the vanishing begins. From head to toe I am no longer visible. Just here to watch, just to witness. Every night is different; some good, some bad. The good nights are always consistent good never changes. But on other nights things can turn evil real quick. I can’t react or interact, but if I am not present, someone’s life changes in vain. They make a decision but still doubt.

There is blame and hate in everyone, along with love and acceptance. Faces and shadows follow me through the night. This is my job, make sure that life keeps moving; they way I do it... by eating the doubts of others.