It almost seems as if I am so sad, that my own dreams are starting to want to cheer me up. Ultimate reflex to that is not wanting to wake up to the bitter "now" which is the actual reality. Marsha Norman said: "Dreams are illustrations... from the book your soul is writing about you." The book my soul is writing about me seems to be just a fairy tale. Sometimes that can be unhealthy isn't it? "I am accustomed to sleep and in my dreams to imagine the same things that lunatics imagine when awake." ~Rene Descartes. Who is the real lunatic then? One who suppresses their loony-ness or one who expresses it? A food for thought I guess..
So what is then the reality? The dream I wish to be in, or the "now" which I want to escape? The actuality is what we chose I guess. I reckon this is the philosophy behind it. Even though we might not want to accept something, we still have to live with it. It's better to be insane in our dreams than to be a loon in reality.
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