Someone's rambling about the news, hysterical about the latest lies being broadcast, buying fully into the story. It's a surprise they don't hear my eyes roll.
It's still a surprise they can't see through the crap.
Calming myself, I continue about my routine. I've learned to ignore the nagging understanding of how this world works. I've learned to stop trying to tell others about, though the pain of watching them literally reset and forget my words always hurts.
The pain of rejection and loneliness got bad at times. Like when I heard the frantic reactions that bordered on genuine panic. I knew it was all fake, just part of the collective dream. Whomever was in control insisted on adding more and more ludicrous situations, probably just to watch the little humans scramble around like chickens with their heads cut off.
I could see through it all, knew none of it was worth reacting to. No matter how severe things seemed, it was just a dream. No serious consequences, and eventually we'd all wake up.
But until then, I couldn't enjoy the madcap adventures. There was no fun in it for me, not until the next dream started.
Maybe I wouldn't be lucid the next time around.
