Our Imperfect Lives

A dream is simply a dream.

As if every dream can be just a false reality, 

yet in some instances, seem so real.

Even for a moment.

I will awaken, thinking that i could possibly wake up 

to a dream that was so grand,

to be simply compared to a life so unsatisfactory,

so bland.

Disappointed, i'd get out of my uncomfortable bed,

stretch, and repeat a day i lived yesterday.

Life is also so amazing sometimes.

I can sit here and write on this wretched computer,

type, and live in a fantasy for multiple hours at a time.

All dreams aren't good, either. 

Sometimes i'd wake up thanking god that dream wasn't real.

I'd sometimes awaken with my pj pants off and wonder how the hell they 

became off my body in the first place.

Wanna know why?

 The fact that it gets so hot in my house.

 Even with the AC, i get hot sometimes. 

But hey, that's natural.

 I mean, Adam and Eve didn't have an AC, nor a house, not even a vehicle. 

Nor barely any clothes. 

They used nature for their satisfaction.

Not complaining though.

 I mean, life is life.

 We can escape by keeping ourselves busy.

 Hell, but my damned mom always says, we can try and escape life, but we can't.

 It always comes along whether we like it or not. 

Sometimes, that's even a dream. 

Even reality can seem like a dream yet it isn't because life becomes

so much better after things turn out so bad.

We can never give up hope. 

We can never falter or wither away so quickly, because that's what our enemies want.

 That's what they crave. For us to fall. 

That's why, for a moment, we fall asleep and dream. 

Then, we all see this, think about what we feel and hypothesize on it, because we all are human. 

We are all real, and we (well) are not perfect.