Monday, April 4, 2016

Perhaps all of life is but a dream
And I know no more
Of what is real
And what are illusions.
When I sleep
Do I dream
Or do I wake?
Do I fall deeper into reality
Or into that misty fog of dreams?
Ignorance is bliss, they say,
Not to know of the truth 
That lingers at the edge,
Believing that dreams are our reality
And reality our dreams.
Believing what we want to believe 
Because the unbearable lightness of truth 
It kills our reality. 


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