An Inconvenient Truth: It Was Only Just a Dream

My life is a dream.  This theory, presented to me by the movie Inception, has rubbed me off the wrong way.   Inception forced me to make the startling connections between what I perceive as dreams and what I perceive as reality.  For example, in both a dream and life I do not remember how it all began.  I do not remember the day I was born just like I can't recall how I entered my dreams.

If this theory is true, then it could either be a major gain, or a major loss.  The output all depends on who's or what's dream I am in, or if I am in any one's dream.  If I am in some thing's dream then all the hard work and good times I have experienced in this thing's dream has a final destination.  That's a major plus.  An author doesn't publish a book for it to sit in their attic.  Books, like this hypothetical situation, are meant to be read and enjoyed by others.  On the flip side, if my life is a dream owned by nobody, then that would straight up suck.  If that were true, then everything that means something to me would truly mean nothing. 

If this theory were not true, it could possibly affect me just as much as it would if it were true.  If it were not true, then just my belief that this could be true would affect my thinking.  If this under-developed theory were proved false by Harvard scientists, my thinking would already have been changed.  In this hypothetical world where my life is a dream, the disproving of the theory by scientists is just another twist in the plot of my life.

This theory bothers me quite simply because there is no way for me to possibly discover whether my life is a dream or not.  Therefore, coming to terms with the theory is very hard.   Coming to terms isn't even the right word.  The only way to deal with this dilemma is forgetting.