Sometimes I wonder if the reality is the dream and the dream the reality. What if I thought I was waking up but the truth is I was falling asleep instead. And all the time I thought I was dreaming it was in fact my life, my real life. I once had that feelings with my ex-husband. I’d felt that I was living in a dream (in my case the worst nightmare) and in any moment I will wake up and will find myself in another situation, in another place, living different life. Back then I had a feeling of being in transition, not unlike being in a train station, or aboard a plane to somewhere. I felt like I was just passing through. Ever had that feelings? Perhaps it was just a hope, a fantasy, to escape the harshness of reality, to protect my sanity, creating a buffer to soften the blows. I don’t know. I have outrageous thoughts sometimes. I can’t help it. My mind tend to run wild, creating havoc to my inner peace. But what can I do? I am who I am.
I dreamed I was a butterfly, flitting around in the sky; then I awoke. Now I wonder: Am I a man who dreamt of being a butterfly, or am I a butterfly dreaming that I am a man?