Was it all just a dream? How could the underlying fabric of the seemingly permanent, robust structures of my world simply dissolve all around me, just like that, almost overnight? It’s not possible that all I’m left with is this confined space, all alone. This whole thing seems totally surreal.
Maybe it was a dream; a mere construct of my deeply fanciful mind, something I conjured up as a pretext for a reality I so badly wanted, so my dangling little ego could dance and flail around, just to impress others.
Maybe those ‘others’ were a dream too; like my mother, father, wife & kids, my friends… and those noble teachers, preachers and rulers who pitched from history and science books, laying down the whole premise to my ‘reality’… Were all those just an illusion too?
Usually, when I wake up from an intensely lucid dream, I saunter about for half the morning, trying to piece together its ‘significance’. Like… what did it all mean?
What does it all mean when everything I thought I knew turns out to have been nothing?
But hey, maybe I’m not yet awake. Maybe this is just a false awakening, and I’m merely dreaming about being woke but actually still sleeping.
Whatever’s going on, I am filled with overwhelming sadness, anxiety and confusion about whether I am in fact asleep or awake, and questioning whether the dream was real or I’m still dreaming this.
#ᴀᴤᴛʀᴏʟᴏɢʏØʄɴᴏᴡ NEPTUNE TRANSITS – ♆ ☍ | ♆ ∠ ♄
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