[Nem]

He watched himself thinking, each thought proceeded in a line across the chaos of his mind, painfully sharp. This thought was a hand, this a number, that a pattern. He cut the world from silence; reality was an unbearable agony against the slumbering consciousness. He watched himself watching himself, holding a hand before his eyes.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in hospital.”

The hand flexed, words came from his mouth at his silent bidding.

“This isn’t me... Where am I?”

“It’s the painkillers talking.”

“I’m dreaming.”

“No, you’re awake.” Pain flared at the edge of his mind, data to be collected and analysed: a pin prick. “See?”

He watched the weathered face he was wearing compose itself into a rueful smile.

“Then how do I wake up?”

“Maybe you go to sleep?”

“When I’m here sleep isn’t here, and when sleep is here I’m not.”

“It’s a good dream though, isn’t it?”

“I want it to be real.”

“It is real. - Why though?”

“What?” Fingers tapping against bed sheets.

“Well you read a lot. - Watch TV and so on. - Isn’t that because you have nothing to do in reality anyway; what’s the meaning from those experiences.”

“You’re too annoying to be a hallucination.”

“And you have to be awake to be a hallucination yourself, right?”

“I don’t know, I guess. - What happened?”

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Heh, possibly the longest exchange between two characters I've ever written. No idea how it reads.
_________________
Never forget,
We stroll along the roof of hell
Gazing at flowers.
- Issa