Can you confidently believe that your memories are real? Could you ever prove it? Photographs and videos can be altered, but what about that blurry image in your mind, how can you prove that ever happened? I awoke in the early morning with a hot sweat and a heavy breathe. My eyes still dry and drowsy from the sleep I barely got. These dreams that seemed more like interrogations haunted me. No matter what I did I couldn't shake the feelings of reality versus memory. What if we're all living in a memory of someone or something else, a dream we haven't awoken from? Here we go with the questions again, they've seeped into my wake, whatever "awake" is. I could feel the gust of the end of summer breeze that reminded you too much of fall. The sun had barely risen, daylight creeping through my blinds, shining a light on to my dilemma. I wasn't ready to start my day, neither ready to face the night. It seemed the time I had awoken best resembled the undecipherable state of my mind. A cauldron of murky thoughts like a pensieve. I slowly started to doze back in a slumber, sitting in an all white room, these people kept showing me pictures of my childhood. They kept asking, more so demanding, to prove that these memories existed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get a word out, to plead, that I did indeed live this life it is not a figment of my imagination; a nightmare that one can never fall asleep from, nor awake from ..
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