...I don't feel real. I find myself wondering if I'm just a figment of someone else's imagination, or even of my own. I sit, thinking, death isn't going to be painful. I'll just be written out. I'm not real anyway. Things that happen in my life just seem to be happening, it's not real. Some...weird author is doing this and I wish he or she would just stop!
I feel like my memories aren't even my own. Things I think happened didn't. Are they just something I read a long time ago...or maybe something someone else told me and I've incorperated them into my own cache of memories.
Did I really have 2 children? Are they truly grown already? Do I have a slew of grandchildren? Do I really babysit them? Were they actually here playing and carrying on yesterday?
Did I really get this scar on my left hand from a broken Coke bottle?
Is that really a scar on my left hand?
Did I really have 2 grandmothers of my own? Did one of them truly have an abhorrence to wearing undergarments?
Maybe I'm just someone's nightmare. A gentler Freddy Kruger, but a Kruger, nonetheless. A bad dream, alive only until the dreamer wakes.
Am I real?
Posted by juel at January 15, 2004 06:14 AM