"I'll be fixated on one star when the world is crashing down"

I've been in a very contemplative mode all day. Thinking deeply on little things.

I wonder how dreams work. Sometimes my dreams are so strange, almost real. Othertimes they seem to take a form that I don't want them to take. Granted, I don't have nightmares, but I often wish to wake up. A few times I have realized that I was in a dream, which is above all the strangest feeling. Am I dreaming that I know it's a dream? Am I mentally able to be that observant and analytical in a dream.

I find it even more difficult to comprehend other people's dreams. Do they dream the same way I do? By what I hear and tell they do, yet without being in their mind I would never actually know. I could be entirely different from everyone in how I think. My brain could have mutations. I could be exactly the same. There could be someone who thinks the exact same way I do.

Then I thought about memory. It seems so natural to "remember" things. But the truth is, once I have lived them, they become more like a movie of my life. Things I can look at, but I can hardly feel the same way again. And I know that in five minutes this moment will be a memory filed away like all the rest.

And I wonder if it isn't all a game. If life is real.

I tell myself stories. I think everyone does. To put yourself in a different life where everything is perfect, and any imperfections to make that world exciting are still perfectly planned out to every detail. It's a way to escape life. To escape reality for a few minutes. To make it all better. Then again, maybe I'm the only one.

And we're all in this world together, trying to figure out why we shouldn't just kill each other.