Fiction

“All that you write about, that’s real right?” She asked scrolling through her feeds.

“Can I choose not to answer?”

“Haha! Irony! You ask so many questions and you can’t answer one?”

“No. It’s not real. It’s fake. It’s made up. It’s fiction. Everything fresh out of my wild imagination. They are my fantasizes. They are my thoughts. They are my dreams. Yeah, they all are my dreams”

“Doesn’t look like that way. It looks real. Sounds real. Can’t deny it’s reality, can you?”

“Maybe it is. But I like to treat it as my dream”

“Why?”
“Because that gives me the power to turn reality into dreams. How many dreams have you turned into reality? 1,2…10? Ask me how many times have I turned partial reality into a full-fledged dream. Every-fucking-time! I am master of my dreams. I would prefer to control my dreams and be happy than trying to change reality and be sad. Nothing is real for me. It’s all fiction! The stars, the moon — its all fiction.”