To the Land of Nod

Our dreams are our sanctuaries. Within the infinite potential behind the slumbering eye, we can go to any world. We can jaunt through the monotonous or travel across the bizarre. It may be a mirror of our own reality, or a tiny fragment nestled deep within the illogical, but it is our creation nonetheless. And within these unlimited worlds, we can become anyone. We may be ourselves, or we may be who we want to be. We can be the action hero or the conquering pirate-king. We can become the handsome bachelor, powerful and charming. We can become the vixen, forever chased, never rejected or denied. We can be witty, rich, beautiful; we can be things we can never be in the real world. We can even be heroes—or villains. We can find ourselves stuck in hell, living out scenes that humiliate us, scare us, and shake us to our very cores. We may become the victim, the pariah, or, even, the demented. Then we may be dragged across the infinite planes of shadow and fire, horrified by every monster lying in wait. When our dreams turn sour, they become our nightmares. We can, at least, wake up from them—right?

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