Today I woke up at 6 a.m. after 7 hours of sleep. I don't remember one fragment of detail about any dreams I had because I slept well. It's probably better to not be tired the whole day than to remember a stupid dream and be tired.
The whole purpose of getting up so early is to have the house to myself. My parents are already up watching television. This puzzles me.
Maybe I am dreaming right now. How do I know this isn't a dream. It sure feels like one. It kinda hurts when I pinch myself, but one time I had a dream where something hurt as well.
What if my whole life was a dream? I know this kind of idea has been said before many times, thought before countless more, but what if it was really me and that is why everyone seems to think the same? Are we all the same person just expressed in different bodies?
Wait. Back up. I don't like to think about stuff like this. It frightens me to question the things that keep me grounded. I'll just think about shallow, happy ideas.