How tangible is reality as opposed to the imagined thoughts passing through working memory in the moments before sleep? If I think of kissing you a thousand times is it any less real than never kissing you, waiting, watching, knowing full well that nothing more than this may ever happen at all? Why is it that when a kiss transpires through the waking world it can never compare with the real thing? Maybe there's a breakdown in the way I'm hardwired--the pleasure pathway's broken from excessive dreaming. Or maybe the imagines in my head are more true to the way I feel about you than anything we could ever really accomplish in at least this reality. How tangible indeed.
Explanation: I think a lot. I think that ruins things, because whenever something happens, no matter how important, earth-shaking, or monumentous, it's already been carefully crafted in imagination.
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