Half the people I see on the street, including myself, (or half of myself?) are wearing headphones. As I’ve said before (ala R.A. Wilson,) what we call existence is merely a sort of virtual reality movie our brain compiles from our senses & plays in our mind. In that case, by blotting out the audio, are we all dubbing in a soundtrack, or are we merely trying to drown out the commentary track that keeps bleeding in?
In a dream last night, an angel told me that I had been in a coma since a car crash back in 1995, and everything since was just a dream. Did I want to wake up, or did I want to keep dreaming? I decided to keep dreaming, since I didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have my children- even if it was imaginary. This concept horrifies me- not that I might be living in a dream, but the thought that this life was the most interesting dream my mind could come up with. Maybe it's just a manifestation of an overblown guilt complex- that I’m so responsible for everything that I could erase my children with a thought. Pass the Paxil, please.