I've always had a problem with my own sense of reality. At one point of my life I couldn't tell the difference between real life and my dreams. I walked each day as a zombie. I wasn't dead but I wasn't living either. Living without living but too scared to die. It's not as though I was afraid of death. I was afraid of what happens after death. I wasn't grounded to this world like others were. I looked at other people but they had religion to hold on too. I had nothing. I still have nothing. But one day I thought, it doesn't matter if this is real or a dream I'll just keep doing what I can because it's easier to focus on whats in front of me. I just have to take it one step at a time.
April 27, 2017