Dreams of reality

As I type this, I am aware of my breathing. I am aware of the sensation of my fingers on the keypad, of the aftertaste of bitter coffee inside my mouth. I am aware of the shade that a friend threw at me and how that made me feel. I am aware of my anxiety for my date tomorrow. I am aware that these things are not me, and that my thoughts and feelings are not me.

I’ve consciously made it a point to not let these get to me ,  to the core of my being. I’ve learnt to differentiate my thoughts and feelings from myself. I’ve learnt that it is an imagined reality, after all.

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