Dear Future Self,
Hopefully by now I've changed a bit.
Pursued what I've been wanting to produce.
Engaged in art, and scriptures of writings that come thanks to creativity.
Ingrained on what I want to generate out of the countless events that plague my sleep.
These dreams that at times cause an affect on me, not only mentally, but physically at times as well.
Those dreams that have made many endless amounts of tales that come with their own thorough extravagant narrative.
Each detail that influences, even the tiniest design.
Details that help establish the tale of these night escapades taking place in the span of my mind.
As that which in sight moves rapidly in the midst of slumber.
Only to wake before the story can end, not knowing how it ends.
Perhaps they weren't meant to be fully seen to the end.
Fill in the gaps by providing ficlets that come to me within the hours of consciousness.
Only then will I be able to perhaps give these ideas that come in my sleep the beginning and ending it deserves.