Friday, March 5, 2010

Illusions

We are such stuff as dreams are made on.

Shakespeare
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Are you who you are? Or are you what I make of you, what I make you out to be?
Are you just a figure in my dream? And if that is who you are, what are you doing in my dream?

I perceive you with dimensions and controls.

I may give you gifts hoping to please you, But who is it I'm hoping to please? Is it you, or is it my illusion of you?

I may have a photograph of you but if so you are only a two dimensional transparency. I have a photograph of myself but there is nothing to me but a head and half a face.

There are people in my dreams. They have faces and bodies that move and speak to me. Are they real, or illusions, or only what I make of them?

I may dream of you. If you speak to me in my dream how do I know it is really you or just my illusion of you? How do I know it is not really you? Are you really who you are in my dream and not in my illusions about you? Is what I make of you in my dream more of who you are than who you are?

I may sit along the rocky shore, watch the tide come in and think of you. Who is it I'm thinking of? Is it you, or is it just the face and figure of my dream?

Maybe we once did something together. I remember it vividly, I think. But you remember it differently. Or maybe you don't remember it. What was it? The shadows are too dense, the well is too deep.

The illusions of life spin around me like the sun and moon, the seasons and the tides.

You may come to visit. We have supper, tell stories and laugh. We have a good time together. But neither one of us knows who the other one is. Because we don't know who we are.

DB - The Vagabond

4 comments:

Nina P. said...

Ah the questions of all time, and no time. Existence, reality and illusion? Did I dream you awake? Your thoughts here are so profound and have been around for many, many years...or have they?
I have dreams that seem as reality down to the minutest detail. And I have events in reality that escape me in the mist. I go to places in my dreams and return again and again with the same characters yet time changes them much as time changes things/people in my awake moments. I have friends and families in "both" places. Are they real? Could they be real? As you say, does a photograph make it real? (with the magic of today's photo-shop manipulations... one never knows.)
You bring back thoughts and discussions of one of my favorite college class, Philosophy. The questions and discussions from the great philosophers of the past, still create wonderful thought and discussion today. They withstand the test of time... but then again, after all... what is time? As always DB, I love your insight and thoughts (or maybe in this case...questions) Blessings to you and yours. Love and Light, Nina P

Big Mark 243 said...

I agree, DB. Some of your more recent entries have left me in deep thought.

Maybe we once did something together. I remember it vividly, I think. But you remember it differently. Or maybe you don't remember it. What was it? The shadows are too dense, the well is too deep.

This paragraph in particular tugs at me. I will ponder this among the other bits and pieces that I suppose are useful.

Bucko (a.k.a., Ken) said...

For me, it is not about dreams, as I rarely remember mine. As for Illusions, well, that is yet to be determined :o)

Gerry said...

It is so easy not to perceive reality sharply. I remember listening to my mother recount some happening where I had been present and I would be astounded at how she embellished sometimes until I am sure she confused her listener thoroughly and I would wonder is she lying? Or does she really perceive it as having happened that way, so I would try to convince my sisters we needed to practice and practice the art of reporting accurately, because I noticed a lot of people were unable to report a story without changing it so that it pleased them more, why I did not quite know, and my mother preferred fiction that embellished reality, while I came to prefer the novels that came the closest I thought to the absolute truth. It seemed to be a choice you could make, to report the happening truthfully or not. I thought it was possible to see more clearly with training and to prefer reality no matter how harsh than a distorted version. My God, a whole population of people belonging to the same religion embellishing their past history drove me crazy!