Are our dreams just an illusion of our reality?
I ponder this question many times over the years, and here it is again, surfacing in my mind.
I keep thinking about a dream I keep having, one where I am working on a story. You all know that I write.
So here goes.
In this dream I am neither gender, just a fluid being.
I sit and look at my "Flaming June" portrait I have hanging above the fireplace. Oh Frederick Leighton, you are a master of capturing the essence of the "perfect" female being. June is so alluring and beckoning. I get up, walk towards her in her portrait. June is reaching out through the painting. I blink, wondering if I am really seeing her lovely, oh, so lovely hand. Does she want me? Does she need me for something? Is June going to whisper sweet words to me, that will reach my soul? I feel myself moving towards June in her painting. I lift my hand, to reach out to her hand. Is this a dream or an illusion? I don't know, and I don't care. I want to touch June's hand, I want to caress her soft delicate hand. I need to feel her warmth touching me. I am almost there, I feel her heat reaching me, oh fuck, it is real, or is it? I step closer, and reach out to her........then poof.......I am in my bed and I see myself dreaming.....what is real in the dream....what is the illusion of my desires. Help me.....I am just a dreamer.

There you go folks, another question in Time in which we all exist.....or do we.....are we all just illusions in our dreams?

P.S. Any thoughts would be so, so appreciated on this one.