I’d rather be elsewhere, out of this abyssal dream; for no longer could the woulds of yesterday propel me onward down this path.
To remain asleep would be akin to self-preservation but also equal its death.
I’d rather speak not, as my eyes open; for in this moment I can see more than words could become expressions.
To say that which cannot be described in speech would convolute its very meaning.
I’d rather wonder, rather than know; for knowing would mean no longer imagining.
To cease creative thought would mean to burst the bubble of divine inspiration.
I’d rather be awake rather than not be, would rather see rather than speak and would rather think rather than cease to inspire.