"I'm having recurring dreams" he told me or was it a she?
There were so many of them that they're faces blend together and they become mere cases, illnesses and thoughts. They become different realities.
"What is the dream?" I asked, knowing well what was his reality, but my curiosity pushed the words out of my mouth.
"I'm in it right now, I get into the dream and then I'm in a small room, two people come to me and they guide me here, and then I talk with you and then I go back into my room and only when I lay down on my bed and close my eyes, I wake up."
"Why do you think this one is the dream and the other one is the reality?"
In the past I used to try to show him why this is real life. I tried to show him how I can control my movement, how I can eat and drink and breath, how I can go wherever I want, but he was never convinced.
"I don't think, I know!"
"How do you know?"
"Because this 'reality' as you call it is too limited. When I wake up, I can do anything I want. Here I'm tied to the ground with invisible strings, in the other one I can fly anywhere! Here i'm limited by blocks of things, In the other one I can go through them, move them around, control them completely! I can breath underwater there and eat whatever I want from wherever I want"
"But you can't control it."
"Can you control yours?"
I didn't know how to answer him.... Could I? Could I actually control my reality any more than he could. Could I leave right now and run through the streets to wherever the wind takes me. Could I live without air, food or water. I can't even light a cigarette right now because we're indoors.
"So.... do you have control over yours?"
I stared at him, her, them... it didn't matter.
"No I don't. Not more than you do. But the way I know this is the reality is because I share it collectively with other people."
"There are people in my reality too."
"Are they consistent people? Are they the same people? Are they good people?"
"Are yours?"
They're really not, I thought to my self. But I couldn't tell him that, I couldn't feed his insanity, or was he feeding mine? I needed my assurance so I looked up at death. Death's face was an inch away from mine, and it was my own. I looked back at the reality that sat in my office and it was me, death was me, reality was me, and I was me.
Realities blended and I lived them all. In my sane search for insanity, insanity found me to be me and I lost my way to sanity. I found many variations of insanity in my search but I never found an insanity more insane that sanity. I found many realities in my search but I never found any realities more real than Death.
There were so many of them that they're faces blend together and they become mere cases, illnesses and thoughts. They become different realities.
"What is the dream?" I asked, knowing well what was his reality, but my curiosity pushed the words out of my mouth.
"I'm in it right now, I get into the dream and then I'm in a small room, two people come to me and they guide me here, and then I talk with you and then I go back into my room and only when I lay down on my bed and close my eyes, I wake up."
"Why do you think this one is the dream and the other one is the reality?"
In the past I used to try to show him why this is real life. I tried to show him how I can control my movement, how I can eat and drink and breath, how I can go wherever I want, but he was never convinced.
"I don't think, I know!"
"How do you know?"
"Because this 'reality' as you call it is too limited. When I wake up, I can do anything I want. Here I'm tied to the ground with invisible strings, in the other one I can fly anywhere! Here i'm limited by blocks of things, In the other one I can go through them, move them around, control them completely! I can breath underwater there and eat whatever I want from wherever I want"
"But you can't control it."
"Can you control yours?"
I didn't know how to answer him.... Could I? Could I actually control my reality any more than he could. Could I leave right now and run through the streets to wherever the wind takes me. Could I live without air, food or water. I can't even light a cigarette right now because we're indoors.
"So.... do you have control over yours?"
I stared at him, her, them... it didn't matter.
"No I don't. Not more than you do. But the way I know this is the reality is because I share it collectively with other people."
"There are people in my reality too."
"Are they consistent people? Are they the same people? Are they good people?"
"Are yours?"
They're really not, I thought to my self. But I couldn't tell him that, I couldn't feed his insanity, or was he feeding mine? I needed my assurance so I looked up at death. Death's face was an inch away from mine, and it was my own. I looked back at the reality that sat in my office and it was me, death was me, reality was me, and I was me.
Realities blended and I lived them all. In my sane search for insanity, insanity found me to be me and I lost my way to sanity. I found many variations of insanity in my search but I never found an insanity more insane that sanity. I found many realities in my search but I never found any realities more real than Death.
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