[ “You are not here.” I shouted. I felt some kind of pain because I knew you were an illusion. I didn’t want you to go, but I couldn’t control my inner self. There was a great difference in between what I thought I wanted, and what I really wanted.

You disappeared, and a flower replaced you. It had been too much. This time, I really woke up.

Did I? Was this true?

I had thought I had woken up before, but it had been unreal, could this be another dream disgusted of reality?

How can I distinguish reality from dreams if I am dreaming? ]

Inside disguised faces,
lies a feared truth,
life is not as it seems
to our senses.

Inside painful days,
lies a unbelievable truth,
life is not as it seems
to our minds.

It seems, but is not.
It believes, but is not.
It resembles, but is not.

Outside, it all seems real,
inside, it all seems unreal,
as a dream…
as an unknown infinity…
as an unopened present…

Is it true?
Is it me?
Am I the remembered past
or the unnamed future?
Am I none?

Where do I go
when I sleep?
Where am I
as I am awake?

Who is being insulted?
Who is being hurt?
Who is being… me?
Who is true?

Mind, senses, fears,
or something else?

I love you.