I Find It Kinda Funny,

     This weekend was kind of weird for me. I'll try to be brief.

     I found out that the world is a small, weird place. You don't truly know anyone, but you know everyone, if that makes sense.

     I've felt pretty odd every since the weekend. For whatever stupid reason it is, it's put me in a mood where I am not sure about anything anymore, except what is happening right now.

     I'll try to explain.

     So we all have that story that we tell everyone about from our childhood; we stuck our tongue to a flagpole and it got stuck, forcing our teacher to call the fire department to get it removed. Or maybe you were just a tiny little eight year old bundle of romance and you got your first kiss under the willow tree with some girl who ended up moving away forever.

     Think about that story, try to remember ever detail. Every. Single. Detail. Do you have it? Now try to figure out which details are wrong. The ones you put in there yourself to make the story more appealing, whether it made your story more humorous, heroic, or hectic. Over the years, your story has come to be somewhat of a half-lie, and a half-truth.

     For me, my story takes place in fifth grade. I'm not going to go into detail, but at this point, reflecting on it, I'm not sure if it actually ever happened. Maybe it did, but it was way less dramatic than I make it seem to be. Maybe it was close. Maybe I tell the story the way it happened. I've told it so many times, adding so many half-lies into the story that I don't know what the truth about it was anymore. In my memory, I even see it occurring to me in the third person.

     In case you don't know this about me, I dream in the third person. That may be a confusing way to describe it, so I'll clarify; I dream as if I'm in a movie. When I dream, I see myself doing actions, with other people doing things unto me, or the world happening around me. I am aware of my thoughts, and what I am going to say. I can sometimes affect the outcome of the "story". I am perfectly aware of my surroundings and where I am. But my view from the dream is limited to a camera. My view is watching at a difference, experience and feeling my character, but not quite being there in his eyes. I'm not certain this is the way I dream at all though, but as I wake up and recall my dreams; I recall them in the third person.

     Back to the story at hand.

     This memory is in the third person. It makes me speculate whether or not it actually happened. I have no physical proof that it did, besides my memory, but even that is sketchy. If I can convince myself that it did happen, even if it didn't, what is the point?

     Then I look back at all my memories, and nothing seems real. Did I really walk home today? What was my proof? Did I go to Six Flags earlier this year? Have I already gone to Pasadena? The mind is so fragile, and so easy to lie to. It's hard to tell the differences between thoughts and truth.

     For example, one time I dreamt that a friend of mine had come up and told me that he was going on a vacation for the next week. When I went to school after the weekend had ended, I asked him why he wasn't gone for vacation. The dream had felt so real that I couldn't tell the difference between if he actually said that or not.
     Even worse, if I ever happen to take a nap, I get so disorientated that I am often in a state of confusion for the rest of my night. The dreams I have during this time are so exotic and real; they tend to frighten me.

     So where do my true thoughts actually lie? At what point is my brain storing my dreams and my experiences and merging them together in one? Archiving my negatives away in old video banks, to be accessed when they need to be? Why are these negatives decaying and suddenly changing?

to be continued...

(Word count: 738 words)