What Dreams Are Made Of

I drift into unreality. Sleep envelopes and causes a fading at my edges. But as sleep continues, so does the fading. Soon it becomes difficult to recall what it was like to be awake. But in my dreams things seem so real. So as I sleep, I live in my dreams. And suddenly I’m awake again. But it isn’t real. Its the world my mind creates. And while you’d think that living in your dreams would be wonderful, dreams represent a reality that’s frightening. So my mind bombards me with its version of truth. Truth I’m not ready or willing to deal with in the real world. Facts that started out as fiction become the only truth I believe through dreaming. My unconscious mind shows the truth it wants to and destroys my fragile peace of mind. And dreams become un-restful. Dreaming forces me to face the truths that are more inadequacies and fear, than reality. But as I wake I find that life has become the dream. I wander around in my faded dream-like state and become less real and visible in the real world. I wait for another dream to envelope and show me the truths my conscious mind tries to hide. And even though these dreams cut and scar, I cling to them and their truths. For in them I see myself clearly for the first time. In them I am no longer an invisible person, faded at the edges, but someone who matters.