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If I'm pressing down keys, which, to me, represent letters, which represent words, which represent sentences, which represent ideas in my head that I'm trying to translate in an accepted, understood form to relay these ideas to others.. then that moment I'm pressing down the first letter, I'm aware of my actions.  The thing is, though, as clear as I may have thought these ideas in my head, as detailed as they may have been, and as thought provoking, to me, as they maybe were, it will never translate that clearly, that perfectly, into another context, another forum.  In my head- my thoughts, my ideas, my reactions- that is my reality. The moment they leave your head, the moment we try to have them understood by others, the moment we try to communicate them, a little bit of our own reality is lost.  When we debate, the words we debate, the ideas we counter arguments with- are missing their original location- they lose something when they leave your head, but remain relatively useless- having no effect on the outside world- until you share them. I think, it's for this reason, that reality, as a story, makes sense.  My mind, my ideas, are comprised, largely from listening to other people discuss their ideas, but these ideas have lost some reality. The way I put all of this together, though, makes up my reality, and when I discuss an idea, it's of fragments of other people's realities, broken into even smaller fragments.  Reality is the story we each tell, the best we can.  What's in our head- the orginal fragments, put together uniquely- is something more. But reality? Reality may just be the best sense we can make of things, at the moment.. just getting things less wrong, hopefully.