Alone

"It's not that you're dreaming, you know...it's just that you were never really awake..."

"If I'm not awake, then I have to be dreaming...what you're saying is a just a paradox."

"Well, you were  born into a coma, babe. Maybe in the real world right now you're parents are silently hoping that you'll wake up in a sterile, white hospital bed."

"That's impossible. You can't be born into a coma."

"Well, you'll never know, will you? You'll never know anything about the real world. Not if you don't wake up."

"I am awake!  Jesus, can't you just be normal for once. I wouldn't be able to make this up in my head. Make you up, make me up, make up this meadow, that rainbow, those horses."

"Maybe you're parents read to you everyday. They read stories about meadows and horses and girlfriends. If you're brain is stimulated, it'll respond, you know."

"What, are they reading science journals to you."

"Oh no, I'm just a part of a book. They're reading science journals to you. They are your parents, after all."

"You're being ridiculous, let's just enjoy this day. It's freaking perfect, you know...and days like these are rare, here, in the real world, where we live...the real world. Not the one I made up."

"That's just the problem, see, it's always been today."