It occurred to me, when I went out for a jog which devolved into walk after several blocks, the dream-like quality of the world. The afterimage of twilight peeling off as the spheres danced into nighttime and the lights of mankind, steadily shining as they had since the sun'd embarked into twilight, grew brighter in that relative darkness. Shadowy branches and Christmastime lights, I stepped on and across the regular slabs of pavement.

Whether "life is but a dream," the to be, or not to be" is not the question. Rather, how does one's existence change when the 'waking' hours are conceived as those spent asleep, and similarly slumber becomes the period which in we are waking? The curiosity, the sensitivity to tone and all the other dream senses came to bear in this world somewhat as I attempted to wrap my mind this way, and right now I wouldn't mind waking up to see what it is like. Nevertheless, there are some things I would like to do before this sojourn in sleep expires. Finish writing this, finish drawing, and write some other things. I'm excited to try food while asleep, too.

Is this reversal a meaningless approach, a useful tool or a foolhardy erosion of oneself? I do not think changing one's relationship for reality is meaningless, but perhaps this particular change is minor and ripples out an effect little greater then nil. Nevertheless, it holds a strange appeal to me; when things seem less significant, they are more malleable and open to creative experimentation, intrusion.

My instinct is that at once that this is right and the world is intuitively easier to understand, and that it is a very wrong way to perceive the world.

I am not presently used to considering this world a dream...but perhaps only because my dreaming is a little rusty.

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Through ten thousand convoluted steps, one unknowingly alights upon a solution and attributes the success unto the entire process when in fact it was triggered by a simple, obscure chain of four or six pieces.