Levels

bleh. things are changing without change. nothings happened, but by just adding time, it seems like so many things are decaying, growing, falling apart, being repaired. and then when i step back it's all how i left it. it's the same workshop i come to and try to make the most with the tools i have. where i make great ideas, and never get to them. where i prioratize things wrongly, and have only myself to blame.

in the imagined world, things make more sense, but is extremely worrying. reality has so many more unknowns that can't be assumed.

i need to change this. it feels like time is slipping, either for better or worse, and there has been too much fretting on the past and future. so much thinking has been put into the future, that i fear i have impaired the present from running smoothly. and if i'm not in the future, then i'm in the past. categorizing, analyzing, running search engines and probabilities. and in the dementia of near insomnia, words change, different conclusions are found and hung onto, and they seem so real. to the point where actual conversations are altered to accommodate the theory, future conversations, hints, verbal ques, and actions are created with such perfection, that the line between reality and the imagined becomes faded.
what is real?