the trick is to keep breathing

It is probably a side effect of the drugs, the stress, or the combination of both, but for the last few weeks I've been living in a state where my dreams contain very real things to the point where I wake up and go about my day and find myself unable to remember or differentiate which things I dreamed and which actually happened.

It's stuff that rides the edge of real and possible: the costume-armor I put on to become a dragon, probably not; the confession that a semi-distant online friend had a crush on me, though: real or dream? Conversations at work, communication exchanges. These days, I dream in email, in text messages, in tumblr and phone calls.

It's a very strange feeling to be struck by a recollection or a deja-vu only to then be sidelined by the question of whether or not what I'm remembering is a dream-image or a real-one.