Dream Irons, Dream Irony

What does one do when one's dream life is more interesting than one's real life?

It's not that I couldn't manipulate my real life until it contained such considerable textures, such esteem-worthy plotlines and I might even be able to suss out such intoxicating characters to give my "real life" a repleteness to match that of my dream life.

But such an enterprise would doubtless involve considerable effort, expense and--more than likely--danger to life and limb.

Plus, these delights would all be entanglements, since these entities and abstractions would no doubt insist on their anchorage in reality when I chose to wake.

Probably the best part about dreams and death both is that one need not purchase a return-trip ticket.

I'd like to argue it's an irony that dreams are unfettered, while the concatenation of things we call life is the fettered thing, but I know just enough to realize I would be arguing an irony within an irony within an irony...

In other words, I would be a man tricked into ceasing to dream.

If irony exists, you have been lured out of the dream.

Probably by evil forces.

And I refuse to be tricked out of my dreams.