Ethereal

Have you ever had a dream, that though uncannily surreal held a breath of veracity so convincing that it simply felt.... almost tangible, almost touchable? Then all at once, it slips from your grasp, fading absently, detached, into the foggy regions of recollection... Isn't it weird how they just blow by like that? How one moment you're in the thick of all this movement and sound, and colour, noise, emotion, and then.... nothing.

Just like that.

Sometimes I wonder,

Is that what our life is?

I believe in life after death. And for as long as I remember, I've been told that life is no more than a drop in infinity. So... if there really is an afterlife, it should be, at least in the sense we see it, eternal. So what is a life span thats barely a century in length stood shoulder to shoulder to immortality? Saying that it is to eternity as a dream is to it is abundantly generous.

So is that all this life is? A glorified playground for our emotions and creativity to run wild? I mean it only makes sense that our more chaotic nature will be curbed or in some way limited, just as it is when we're awakened from our sleep, only much more so. I guess you could even say that life, like our dreams are a release for all the excess propensicity of our imagination contained within our afterself. Like our dreams our life will seem to have been filled with so much animation. So much colour, with things unimaginable; so inanely improbable that they approach impossibility. Y'know, the kind of stuff you say to yourself is only possible in your dreams...


The big question is; will our life fade into nothingness as well; banished even by memory? Will we forget who, no, what we are? Will we in essence still be who we are? If not... then...

Then...

...

Are we living a dream?


I dream, I dreamt, i dream.