Have you ever wondered what life really is? I often think of it day by day. Are we really here? Could we possibly be memories of what was once or could one day be? Have you ever noticed that when you read a book you go through life with the characters? You feel their pain and happiness. You lose with their hardships and gain with their success. I often wonder if the characters in these books are conscience of the fact that someone is intruding in on their private feelings and thoughts; sometimes even becomming the characters themself. Maybe our lives are like that of a character in a book... already written for us and someone else (or something else) is just reading a plot in a story. It's a very serious thing to think about, just like when we dream,,, are we really dreaming of something happening, or someone else... or are we really living that and that person or thing dreaming of another identity AKA our own conscience state. Like my most favorite quote states "Once upon a time I, Chuang-Tzu, dreamed I was a butterfly fluttering hither and tither, to all intent and purpose a butterfly, I was conscience only of following my fancies as a butterfly and was unaware of my individuality as a butterfly. Suddenly I was awakened and there I lay myself again. Now I do not know whether I was a man dreaming I was a butterfly or whether I am a butterfly now dreaming I am a man." I say this speaks for itself.
~Gwendolyn A (Pepepr) Coyne
Feburary 8, 1994
