I have had parties in my backyard, the dirty muddy mess of trees and creeks that I ruled when I was nine. My mother was cheating, a lady I knew wasn't telling anyone she had a lover, everyone was lying and it was so plausible. It could have been real.

What does it mean when you dream that you are asleep? But I wake up. And then I wake up again.

In my dreams I blast through hospitals and I nearly die. I go on cruises and I fall in love. I go to school to lessons and get assignments and stress about everything. I come home and find port and cake on the bench. I eat, I drink. I live out my life.

I was at a boarding school or in a dorm room and I had graduated. I had to get everything out of my draws and off the walls and my roommate wasn't doing her share. I could hear a conversation from next door because my door was open. They were arguing about love, as people are so apt to do. I listened to music. People walked past, back and forth from the living room into nothing and you don't know where the line is between reality and dreams now, do you?

I dreamed of a field, wide and nearly treeless, beautiful and green. Some trees were old and fallen down, leafless and black. I went there a hundred years ago and I went there last night and I went there a week ago. And you... you died right there. I dreamed it. Then I saw it. Perfectly. Every tree in its place, even the shape of the trunk you lent against, holding close your caved in chest.

There's meant to be a line between reality and everything else. You think and you know that you are thinking. You can realize that you have never breathed in your thoughts and tasted the air from your mind. You go to bed and you dream and you wake up and it must have been a dream because you were asleep when it happened. How do you know when that line has gone? When everything is smudged how do you pick apart the pieces and put the jigsaw back into its two boxes?

I need to sleep. I want to sleep. I like sleep and I like these dreams, because I enjoy them. But I'm also afraid.

Sometimes... sometimes I am sitting in my chair and I look at my room and think that I'm not here.

What do I do when I believe myself?