- Maybe not always the best ideas.
I landed in a dream, realizing that making a dream isn’t always the right idea.
The voice of my梦 was different—she claimed to have become a "peaceful bird." It was peaceful because it was free, unbound by the past and the future.
"Then you were just another bird on this sky," it said, her tone soft, like a breeze.
I knew that if we could be still, then maybe all the birds could too—be still.
And so I did:
I landed in a dream, realizing that making a dream isn’t always the right idea.
The voice of my dream was different—one claimed to have become a "rocket." It was rocket because it could fly, up high, forever, beyond Earth's gravity.
"Then there would be no war," it said, its tone soft like a whisper.
I knew that if we could be still, then maybe all the rockets could too—be still.
And so I did:
I landed in a dream, realizing that making a dream isn’t always the right idea.
The voice of my dream was different—one claimed to have become a "flyer." It was flyer because it could talk, people would be happy to hear its words, even if they were not their own.
"Then we could all stay here," it said, its tone soft like a whisper.
I knew that if we could be still, then maybe all the flies could too—be still.
And so I did:
I landed in a dream, realizing that making a dream isn’t always the right idea.
