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to awareness. Because people think more than they talk, I have to believe that they are aware of
what goes on, and at the end of it all, as stupid as I think this person may be, I know in my mind that
this person isn't as ignorant as I may think they are. The people who you have deemed as
unintelligent, maybe they aren't as unintelligent as you think.

Time goes by and nothing comes out. Eventually I feel as if I don't really have to use the bathroom,
so I get back in my car and I continue to drive down this stretch of road. After a while, I see traffic
lights in the distance. At least I think I do. The closer I get, the more like traffic lights they look.
And then I finally pass under it, and all of the lights are red. All three.

I start to wonder where I am. Then I start to think about my mother and how she was able to
tolerate my father for as long as she did, and my mind freezes. I've been through this before, except
it wasn't a dream, it was in real life. I was on the way to my father's funeral. I remember I had to
drive from one part of the state to the other, and the entire time I was looking for a photograph of
my mother to place in his coffin. Three nights before, I found the photograph and I put it
somewhere in my car, but I couldn't remember where. I never found it.

So now I am aware I am dreaming because this has happened before. Lucid dreaming. I stop the
car and get out of it. Before I can put two feet on the street it's night again and I'm in the city once
more, standing in the middle of a highway. I look up and there is a billboard. On the billboard there
is a photograph of a woman I used to know named Maria, and it says she is missing. The billboard
asks me if I have seen her. Then I wake up.

Maria is a woman who I was once in love with. Or I should say I thought I was in love with. It
wasn't until she left that I realized that a person like me wasn't designed to love. I could be friendly,
helpful, kind, but loving someone was just something my brain never fully developed.

When it comes to love, there are some pieces of rock that are out there moving, searching for love,
and then there are some rocks out there that are stationary, sitting there still just waiting for love to
find them. Then there are rocks that stay stationary, but at the same time are in a way moving
because they are rotating on their axis.

These rocks are not searching for love and they are not waiting for it, they are propelling any form
of love that comes its way in the other direction. Sending it back where it came from.

For a while, Maria tolerated my insanity. Once upon a time I wasn't as organized as I was when it
came to writing down my dreams. Sometimes I would just try to remember them in my head, or
sometimes I would just write them on a random page in a random notebook.

The problem was when I tried to put some dreams in a logically chronological order, I had nothing
to reference to. I could never find the dream I was looking for. My room would become messy
because I would turn the room upside down searching for that dream I wrote down so long ago.

Or sometimes my head would hurt trying to remember every detail of that dream I had. It got really
bad when I would mix up my dreams for real life memories or real life memories for dreams. I
couldn't separate reality from fiction. The time came when Maria could no longer tolerate what I