Imaginary Reality

I've been contemplating a few issues of mine for the past couple of months. I found self-reflectiveness quite refreshing, yet disgusting as time and perspective magnified my fualts and mistakes. I also realized that self reflection can often lead to egotistical and selfish thoughts.

Thinking leads to writing. So far, I have a couple of typed pages, four napkins and two receipts with random notes that only make sense in my mind. It has been both fun and overwhelming transcribing the make-believe world in my mind to actual dialogue, scenes and characters. The most intriguing part of this entire process has been the blurring lines between reality and fiction. I try to stick to fiction, but I can't help but write about what I know best, which is my life and my perspective. However, my faulty memory fails to be an accurate account. Therefore, what I think is/was reality may not be at all. Contemplating this boggles my mind because then I wonder whether I truly remember anything at all. I suppose even the events, people, conversations I remember inevitably go through pasteurization in my mind. After some time, I tend to begin idealizing everything in the past. The people who once hurt me turn into heroes. I kill all the negative and harmful thoughts.

It's hard to tell whether my stories are even my own or the ones I made up in my idealistic mind.