Photo by Ryan Wilson on Unsplash
I am a dreamer. Ah, you are probably saying, aren’t we all dreamers? We are all dreamers, all of us humans, and perhaps animals as well. Haven’t you seen dogs dreaming where they kick up their legs as if they are running, running, running so fast?
Well, my friends, you are quite mistaken on that account. You might all be capable of dreaming, but I am a dreamer.
Us dreamers, we are different from everyone else.
You see, I can turn my dreams into reality.
Yes! I know. Isn’t it just the grandest superpower to have in the world? I am ecstatic to be alive and to be a dreamer. Very lucky indeed, considering that there are only five of us in the known world. And perhaps more in the unknown realms. There were more of us, but unfortunately, getting stuck in one of our dream realms is quite a high possibility for us dreamers. So quite a few of us, have been lost in dream worlds for generations on end, with no way of getting back into the known world.
Enough of that, I am not here to complain about the work situation that us dreamers have to deal with. I’m here to tell you of my life and how I live it, so perhaps, you can be envious of me, and that would make me feel much better about the fact that I am so damn lonely.
Today is just another day in my world. I am getting ready to go to bed yet again.
Another day, another dream.
One snag with this dreaming business is that I cannot control which dreams come to fruition, and which don’t. Which means that sometimes I end up living in dreamworlds which aren’t really conducive to my long life. Oh, the stories I could tell you of the times I got stuck in worlds, where the only way I escaped was through the use of quick thinking, and the half-wittedness of the creatures in it.
Here’s how I prepare myself for sleep. I take a tablespoon of Nutrianimic honey — you have never heard of this probably, it’s harvested from one of the most precious lands in the dreamworld, and is meant to help us mortals control our dreamworlds better. So, I take a tablespoon of this honey and pour it into some goat’s milk — I am on a no-cow’s-milk diet right now. Do you know the antibiotics and hormones that goes into that stuff? Ugh. Disgusting.
So I make this concoction by adding honey, milk, a bit of turmeric, and a lot of sleeping powder. You see for a dreamer it is absolutely crucial that they sleep every night. I cannot, and I repeat, cannot, skip a single night of sleep. It would be detrimental to my soul to do so.
Why?
The more sleep I skip, the more convoluted my dreams become, and the harder it is to control the outcome. I had one long week of restless sleep when I was going through my teenage growth spurts, and I remember I ended up creating a world where Venus flytraps as big as houses were trying to eat up all the humans and living things, including me. I only escaped because the Venus flytrap that had caught me didn’t like the taste of me. Oh man, that was a distressing time indeed.
Thus, from then on, I take piles and piles of sleeping potions and powders whenever I go to sleep. I do not want to miss even a single second of sleep. I get my 8 hours every night, no matter what catastrophe is going on in the world. I might be in the middle of an Earthquake or Tsunami, and I still manage to get my 8 hours of sleep.
The world turns and tumbles, and I still sleep.
So I take my magic sleeping potion as I call it, not very original I know. And then, I go off to dreamworld.
Some nights are great. I am able to control my sleep patterns really well. I am able to manipulate my dreams, so that the world that I create when I wake up is exactly to my liking. But other nights, I am impatient, and restless, and the worlds I create when I wake up, are heartless and cruel and intent on either maiming me or killing me.
When I say wake up, I don’t really mean, waking up as you would wake up. Ah, a nice stretch, and then roll out of bed, off to get some coffee and fruit? No, that’s not the way a dreamer wakes up. When we wake up, we actually wake up in a world we have created. It isn’t like dreaming anymore though. We are actually and truly in the dreamworld. It is as real to us, as that pencil case might be to you.
The unfortunate thing about this is that we could die in a dreamworld, and we wouldn’t die in the real world. Our soul would be dead, but our body would still wake up and go about its business like we were alive.
Alright, I am losing track of this conversation. The reason I started this story was to tell you of one time when I created this dreamworld, where everything was so magical that I just have to share this glory with the world.
Ready? Cool, let’s go, my non-dreamer friends.
“I woke up and I was in the ocean. I wasn’t choking on the water or anything like that. I was actually diving into the water, to cut off some rope that had been tying up this ship to the bottom of the ocean. I dove deep, deep, deep into the ocean.
I had a knife in my hand, which slashed through the rope, and then I grabbed a hold of that rope to soar high up into the air. Finally, I landed into this cave. This cave high up above the city that was overlooking the most beautiful vantage point ever. It was the Pink Glass City. I’m sure you have never heard of it. Most people haven’t. I sat there and looked through all the buildings.
The buildings themselves were oddly-shaped. Each building was shaped according to the task that it had. The building that housed all of the lady-loves was shaped like a huge clitoris. The building that housed all of the food was shaped like a huge okra. The building that housed all of the lady-boys was shaped like a huge dong. And so on.
But everything wasn’t vulgar as I make it out to be. The glowing pink glass, it was coloured like a particularly beautiful sunset — pink, golden, and orange hues. It shone from the inside out. They didn’t need any external fixtures or any ornaments. The buildings themselves were the ornament.
A man was standing besides me, as suddenly as it happens in a dream.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” He said.
“I am your prisoner for now,” I asked. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew. It’s the dreamworld, anything is possible, but everything is impossible. If that makes any sense.
“Yes, only for a few moments. I would like you to see the beauty of the Pink Glass City and then you can go off to where you need to go. I know you are not of this world.”
He came closer to me, and took my hand in his. He had webbed fingers, but besides that he looked exactly the same as me. That’s when I realized that we were under water. Everything was under water. I was breathing under water. As it happens in the dreamworld, I was fine as long as I was fine, but as soon as I started panicking, I started distorting myself in the dreamworld.
I stopped breathing, and the water, the sea water, the salty water started engulfing my throat. I was choking.
Choking.”
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