Huba Huba

United States

Writer, poet, musician, wanna-be-botanist, wanna-be-secret-billionaire
Sleep deprived.
Call me a monster, I put milk in before the cereal.
I'm probably eating ramen right now or having a mental breakdown.
Joined: May 26, 2020

Message to Readers

I tweaked my dream up a bit to get a message across. How's the narrating?

Writing Streak Challenge- Week 8, Day 4

September 3, 2020


You're alone. 
Standing in a large mass of people, you're alone. Why? Because you're standing in a large mass of strangers. The strangers aren't strangers with the strangers, and their heads are a couple yards above yours, with their necks embraced by gold and their hands decorated with diamonds. Wherever you are, you cannot see light, as the strangers' shadows lay upon you. 
You're stamped on, you're pushed over, and you don't exist to these strangers. 
Until you see some gold, shining brighter than the ones on the strangers' necks and the diamonds on their hands. Just by seeing him, you know it's the boy who always visits you in.. wherever you are. It's the raven haired boy from last time, except now his hair is like silky gold, and his dimples are showing today. 
He levitates like Peter Pan, and brings you along with him. Wherever you are, you're free and higher than any of the strangers you just thought. Wherever you are: 
You're not alone.  
Does anyone ever see a person that they don't know in real life but they seem to know very well in their dreams? My memories if this person is always vague, as he sometimes has dark hair, and he sometimes has light hair, and rarely I'm unsure of his gender, but I'm always sure it's that person. 


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