What's in a dream?

What's in a dream?

I was sitting in my car today, bored of driving I decided to distract myself from my boredom. It was then that I started to remember this dream I had the night before. I've noticed that my dreams have been getting more and more in depth, as well as they have started to develop storylines. I also realized I sleep approximately twelve (12) hours a day, that is almost half the day, half! This is when I propose my question of the night to everyone:

• Which is reality, my dreams, or when I am awake?

To most people dreams are very very important. I have a friend who will remain nameless who had to sell his car because his mom had a bad dream about him getting carjacked. I personally only dated Isabel (in the beginning of course) because I had a dream about us being together. I can't tell you how many math, physics and social problems I and others have solved with dreams. My question is, why is it that when we are dreaming, we are dreaming? My confusion lies in the fact that my time is split directly in half, between the dream world and the real world, but what gives these two world's their definitions? Why don't we view the real world as a dream? Hell, I know some stoners who their "real world" is constantly like a dream. It kinda all goes back to the question, what is reality?

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Is reality really perception? To be perfectly honest, I hope that that sentiment isn't true. I love the world, and I love life, but I know it all isn't perfect, I choose to ignore the negatives. I would hate to know the reason there is hate, death, and pain is because it slowly has crept into the back of my mind. That would royally suck, and I don't know if I could live with it.

At the same time, I have little control over each world. I view the world as a car where the gas is stuck, you can't control whether you go forward or backward, you can't put on the brakes, all you can do is steer. In some ways I think that this sentiment proves that both are either real or fake, they both have the same validity. Remember, we deem dreams as dreams merely because they seem impossible, but impossibility is all relative to what we define as true reality. A lot of people also say dreams aren't real because you can't remember them that well. Trust me, memory doesn't make it real. I sometimes used to forget I had a girlfriend with lots of previous girlfriends, at the end of the day, I still had one. So if memory isn't reality, and reality isn't purely perception, what is it?

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I am not about to stand here and define what reality is, to some sentiment we all stretch and try to grasp our dream world once and a while. To me, this blog that has almost three (3) people reading it is like a TV show. Everyday I open my arms to new experiences and type, with little editing too! I know that isn't something to brag about in my case. To me, this is real, what I write, is zany, stupid, even at times delusional, yet real.

This episode went a tad bit to heavy on the deep, and not enough on the funny, and so I am going try and bring back the funny, so you could in fact say I am going to bring it back do do do do.

My cat just popped out of my closet, he is a weirdo, I love him though. He is such a dork.

I'd have to say, the key to thinking of funny things is just laughing. I want to do something stupid, I want to laugh. Remember this?:

"She will remain nameless, mainly because she may be reading this as we speak, I doubt it, but she might be. This girl is awesome, she and I have lots in common, she is always a charm to be around, plus, she gets 99.9 percent of my jokes."

I really hope she isn't reading this, but I think the stupid thing I am going to do is ask her out. Like I said, I really like this one. If I fail, you'll be there, if I succeed, you'll be there, you always are. For that I thank you. I am talking about you, you know, the four of you out there, the people reading, you guys. Come on! I swear.

Seeing as how I am suffering from a serious case of writers block, I will call this a night, I bid you adieu.

Stay Classy Internet.