why the raven

I need to write it all down

before I forget it all. 

I used to wish I could forget some things. Certain things. Now I scramble to remember anything. Everything that made me, me. 

In the dream, the colors were clearer than in waking. Some brighter, and some darker, but all more themselves. Lines (boundaries) were crisper & more defined.

Once there was a girl who had dreams and plans and fears and she lived with her family on a quiet street with other families. Her house had a barn and a pasture with woods and a creek in it. That girl was me. I don't know how long I'll remember this.