Lovely

Really they are all just figments of my imagination. All of them really. I don't know them, I don't own them. Nor should I want to? Are they dreams, or are they more quasi-realities, because they are definitely not realities. Am I in my own way to the real thing. Or is there no real thing. Surely there is. A boy can dream. What am I even saying... All my beautiful dreams, I hope you remain beautiful. And maybe, just maybe, I can wake up to one of you.