[ CW ] Write a story that makes sense when read forwards and backwards .

At times, the dreams seem so vivid, so much greater than what is to be found when I wake and begin life again. & nbsp; 
 
 Outside the busy roadways, away from the crowded streets, the feeling of endless routine, finally I had found what I've searched all these years for. & nbsp; 
 
 I stretch out my hand to the moonlit skies, toward the seemingly endless galaxies, and before long I gaze back toward the earth, immersed in a new reality. One without the restraints of my past. & nbsp; 
 
 Before long, it occurs to me that everything I see; the roaming creatures, the trees and waters, the stars above, are clearer than I can ever recall. As if all imperfections and lackluster qualities had vanished... No, not even like that. The flaws have never existed, and never will for an infinite amount of time. & nbsp; 
 
 I continue my journey, now afoot, increasingly eager to discover more. No one to tell me where to be today, where to go tomorrow, when I must return... I am free. & nbsp; 
 
 Leaping from a great height, from what seems to be miles above, I plunge into the Pacific; at least, that's what it was known to be in my faint memories. I lay on my back, drifting among the waves that nudge me every which way. They eventually lead me back to shore. & nbsp; 
 
 Out of the blue, it suddenly hit me. There was no one around. Not one. 
 
... The emptiest of feelings. I suddenly realize no matter how wonderful, there's something missing that will never be found. & nbsp; 
 
 There's no meaning at all to any of this. No lasting purpose. I feel alone. An empty soul that roams aimlessly, endlessly. & nbsp; 
 
 I find myself running. I do n't know how, but I know exactly where to go. What I must find. The direction opposite of the vacant nothingness of where I was. & nbsp; 
 
 8:07. The bright red display reminds me of yet another day. I lay there, underneath warm blankets, eyes half open, barely. & nbsp; 
 
 I make it to work just on time, like I always do. It's fairly easy work. Somewhat repetitive. Just enough to keep my thoughts occupied. Yet not enough to create any significant amount of stress. I do n't mind it being this way. & nbsp; 
 
 At the table, I find myself partake in the usual... mostly healthier choices, with something sweeter and a bit savory to end. No surprises; I'm content with my life. I can always look forward to seeing familiar faces later on. & nbsp; 
 
 I step out of the shower. Combing my hair, I look at my reflection. It stares right back at me. & nbsp; 
 
 Flat on my back, I lay awake in my room, lost in my thoughts, my recent dreams. Sometimes they send comfort, yet at other times they exist only to haunt me. And yet, it's truly a safe place to find oneself in. When you realize that the day can make you forget these things, at least for awhile, it does n't seem to bother one so much. After all, things could be much worse. 
 
 
 
 

