literature

Dreaming of Reality

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ordnael's avatar
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Literature Text

Dreaming of reality

I’m awake in my dreams...
Are those really the dreams? Or is that reality and all the rest is a dream?
I have convinced myself for years that reality makes sense, has continuity, like a thread that unravels as time passes by, but why must it be so? The cinematic cuts that compose my dreams don’t feel fake, just different. Reality is what I decide it is.
What I am is inside my body and that can as easily reach out to any of the two worlds that torment me in their struggle for dominance. Do I start living when I go to bed or when I leave it? It all feels so real, so familiar sometimes. The clarity of thoughts leaves me while I dwell in this, is this a taste of insanity?
Are the mad ones the ones that chose the world of fragmented adventures or the ones that remained in the monotony of a life that will keep unraveling even after they died?
All I know is I’m dreaming my life away…
But…
I’m awake in my dreams…
Rants of what it is and what it might be.
© 2004 - 2024 ordnael
Comments24
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risce's avatar
I get your point. Did you know the aboriginals in Australia felt they were really living and in the true world when they dreamt. Thats where those pictures stem from.
If reality is what you decide it is, you are on a point of liberation. Good thinking.