On Waking

I like this line:

You don't remember immediatly who you are, when you wake. (33)

It reminds me of something, I just don't know what. It reminds me of everything. For Molloy, it may be he never remembers immediatly who he is. When I wake, I wake hard and rough. Every morning I have to put myself together again, or wait for myself to be whole again. I think a part of my mind is left behind in whatever dream I was dreaming when I was ripped away from that world. It is hard for me. I was once happy and cheerful upon awakening, and now, and now. In truth I want to keep dreaming, all the time, and I want my day to be whimsical like a dream. Is that selfish? When I open my eyes things are fuzzy and uncertain, as if they may at any moment simply fall through the floor and keep falling, all the way through the elastic earth and end up in someone's house on the other side. I think someday my dreams will be so deep and intense that they will suck me forever in, and no thing then could wake me.