I had the most intense dream experience this morning. I woke up, thought about calling my parents, then dozed off again. I'm sure that's what triggered the dream about the house I grew up in. This time, in the dream, the house was falling apart, turning to rubble (but still standing). My parents and I surveyed it, walked around it, then returned home. But the new home was in fact the house I grew up in, still intact. Seeing that this was impossible, I managed to convince myself that there was something wrong with my reality. But I couldn't figure out that it was a dream. I was absolutely convinced that that moment, in that house, was where I existed and that there was nothing else. Even though I vaguely realized that something was wrong with my reality, I had no access to the parts of my memory that included Japan and London. And for a second, despite knowing that my reality was wrong, I couldn't wake up. It felt like slowly going insane, but then I finally did wake up. And for another couple of seconds I had no idea where I was. I still couldn't remember anything after leaving Holland. It was like meeting the me from 10 years ago. Quite a shock. Then I realized who, where and when I was and went back to the routine drudge of daily life..