The foundation for reality lies in the act of asserting something as real, by means of some sort of statement. The assertion of a reality makes a sort of hypothesis, promise, or command about what can be made present but is currently absent. Reality begins as the possibility of something being real, which is to say, the object of an assertion. Should an assertion about reality fulfill itself, the result is not necessarily that you're filled with a sense of conviction that what you see is specifically real, but that you're presented with a raw fact, which is to say an object that you have to do something with; the mere fact that it exists means that you are obligated to respond to it in some way, even if it's only to bear witness to it and etch it away on the tablet of your memory. In fact, you are already responding to it, as soon as it manifests; perception of any sort means experiencing a certain attitude, which is another word for intention, toward something. To have an intention means to assert something as a possibility of some sort, by means of some object toward that possibility, which brings us full circle, right back to the beginning of the cycle, at the same moment the cycle begins.
One might say that reality is a dialogue, and not just a dialogue but a dialogue about this or that dialogue.