I just found this...forgot I wrote it.
 

Rose from bed groggy, delirious, torn from the earthly bed which graced my presence for what seemed like days, but was really a few hours, walking towards the door which leads to cold brisk air, but finding the door too big to move, the door which seems to be growing, growing through the ceiling into the sky, thinking to myself how will I ever be able to move this now, looking towards the window for escape only to realize the window is gone and replaced by another door, turn around door, turn around door, too many doors. The choice of door floats over the mind and a random choice becomes clear, door opens, no light, just black, another door opened, no dark, just white, another door opens, sand pours from the cracks and begins to fill the small room grain by grain until the ceiling becomes the means to an end, up to the neck with a sea of dry water, just then the ceiling opens up and I am greeted with wind and fire and all the while I am telling myself to wake up. WAKE UP! Rose from the bed groggy, delirious, torn…