It is those vulnerable moments when one must carefully sort through one's dreams, and decide what is real and what is not... or more importantly, what was a dreamed metaphor of what is real.

Sometimes one is more in the asleep realm, and can replay the most recent dreams, quickly shifting through images and scenes, or honing in on one portion and experiencing it in slow motion over and over and over and over. As the eyes drag themselves open to check the clock, relief washes over them as they realize they have a few more minutes to rest and replay. 

   

Sometimes one is more in the awake realm, and can have logical conversations with oneself. "Why did I dream about that?" 

"That's a ridiculous situation." 

"O, if only real life happened that way."

"I must be secretly concerned with that."

"Was that a metaphor for my real feelings?"

[Sidenote: Thinking in terms of metaphors are helpful in interpreting dreams... but in that delicate state, it is too early to think in those terms.]

In that delicate state between awake and asleep, one has no sense of time. A perceived minute could actually be forty five. This is a glorious sensation in the summertime.

The worst part about this state is that it eventually must end. Whether one has to force oneself out of it or one's body simply wakes up, it is always over before it should be.

Why?

Because one can convince oneself of almost anything in that state. 

An example from this morning:

"I must be awfully sunburned, and those cats are getting on my nerves."