"Nothing unreal exists."
It's probably a good thing that I rarely dream.
I remember only a handful of dreams each year, and this morning was one of those occasions. Waking slowly this morning, I spent about 3 minutes coming to the conclusion that a whole 2-year period of my life didn't actually exist. It was a period not even relevant to the dream itself, but somehow my ( Read more... )
I remember only a handful of dreams each year, and this morning was one of those occasions. Waking slowly this morning, I spent about 3 minutes coming to the conclusion that a whole 2-year period of my life didn't actually exist. It was a period not even relevant to the dream itself, but somehow my ( Read more... )
Well, duh! Hell, there's an infinite number of them to be found in any chronosynclastic infundibulum.
What I find disturbing is when I'm partly awake and I can't figure out where I am. I mean, I know that I'm in my own bed, I know that I'm in my bedroom, I just can't remember which bedroom. Since starting at A&M, I've had... 18 different bedrooms? No, 19, because I switched bedrooms in my Austin condo. And that's just the real ones. I've had hundreds of unreal ones, as I dream of homes that don't actually exist on a pretty regular basis.
A month or so ago I found myself squinting around the room to figure out which wall the windows where on, to eliminate some of the options. Luckily, I've only had a window AC unit in my current bedroom, so that pretty much locked down where I was. And, having solved that mystery, I also knew that I was not, in fact, late for prison, and could therefore relax and go back to sleep.
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