June 30th, 2018. 7:45am.

I hadn’t dreamt that night, and when I woke, I was confused. It had been months since I slept comfortably in my bed. Of course this time, I had slept at a small incline and with a neck brace. The irony.

First, I questioned reality. I wondered if this had all been a dream. Not a bad dream, just a very interesting one. A very detailed one too.

That wasn’t true. I had the scars to show for my ordeal. 

Then I thought:

What if I had brain surgery to receive an implant? What if i’ve been wiped clean and I’m one of the bad guys? Or what if I’m one of the human batteries from The Matrix and this really is a dream constructed by our robot overlords?

And the memories, were the memories real?

But in seconds, I snapped out of it. 

See, this experience has helped me accept that time is a relative thing. Save for a few distinct memories, everything else from my stay is a collection of screenshots.

Oddly, this holds true for much of my life.