There is a world beyond my reality, and into my dreams.
A magical place that isn't so special.
A room that doesn't exist, here it does. Only in my dreams.
Every time I visit this place, it's so hidden, and I don't think I should knock.
It's a tight squeeze in, but wary, things are not stacked properly, yet the never wobble, they never fall.
A room of brass where the bathroom should be.
Along the walls, overflowing shelves of lamps, cups, and containers litter the room neatly. I never touch anything, and I never know the purpose of this place.
It's a nice place, how bright but dull, a place I like to explore.
I hate to leave, but what lies beyond the imagination is left to the imagination.
In my dreams, I am in my great grandmother's house...And where her bathroom should be, there is a small door. That small door you have to jump in and squeeze your way in. And when you're inside...there's just towers and mounds of brass objects. I felt like I needed to let my thoughts out about it because I went somewhere not too long ago, and they had shelves of brass objects. It felt so familiar.
This is really cool. It has a sort of Alice in Wonderland vibe to it in the sense that the imagination and descriptions are almost little whimsical thoughts. I really liked it.