dreams

Drinking cereal while morning blogging.
When I woke up this morning to the blinding light(forgot to draw the curtains, again) I realized something about my dreams. The distinction between 'it' and reality wasn't so brutally obvious. It used to be more or less the same blood, the same scent, a smooth boat riding to the other shore. Even when I dreamt of the exaggeratingly impossible over abundance of food in our kitchen, or how the chef called to me 'You can have all of the chocolate puff', or even flying a mini plane without wings, they are all comfortalbe extentions of a day. Because they're DIFFERENT!
What do I dream now? Secret desires exposed to such totallity I induged in them regardless of the last grain of moral value or self awareness. Anxiety, Jealousy, what a swamp I paddle through. And the mere passing of tiny objects loomed into haunting significance. Objects I thought I've obstinately chosen to ignore. A stale smelling dress when I opened the drawer. 'It's still pretty'. Then that is to it. A monosyllabic conversation filled with 'Hmms' 'Yeah.' Everyone was wearing that dress. And the person spoke too much. My neurons are firing in the opposite direction...
And ironically the stabbing pain coz it's ME, it's too SIMILAR. If it were anywhere near the tale of thousand nights, I'd comfortably slip into another day without questioning or the need to answer.
Soical restraints broken loose. The sludge stirred and filled the tank. The freedom a dream holds together with the naked truth.
And when I wake up, life feels surreal.