Sleep is a Canvas

A Story by Sylaenaalles

Read, for tomorrow the opportunity may vanish.

Dream Zero

As a day breaks, nature would flower, spread its wings, and awake to greet the dawn of a new cycle. The lion wakes in the early hours to hunt. The hive mind of an ant colony once again keeps working to sustain themselves. The sunflower flourishes its petals to catch the newborn strands of sunlight from the rising sun. Great Earth would proceed undisrupted, and her children which wander in the land use their wits and abilities to scavenge and produce what resources they need to continue to prevail.

Us humans, on the other hand, seem to have broken off from the everlasting path that nature takes with all its kin. Yes, as original descendants of the Earth, we are all subject to nature. However, we are just a tiny bit more distinct from the other residents of this planet because we follow a very organized and relatively advanced way of life. When a predator wakes, he will forage for food. Us? We take up our man-made utensils and dine on sustenance any other species cannot experience. We shape our own path through the world now, separate to nature. Earth and man. Two very different systems co-existing with each other.

However, there is still one thing that we all are bound to. All kingdoms of nature and the systems of man are subject to the need of rest. At the end of the day, the lion retires to his den. The hive mind of an ant colony retreats to the nest within a great hollow. The sunflower halts its tracking gaze towards its sun, and remains still. As the sun sets, the working man commutes back to his resting place. Whether it is a cardboard box at the back of a damp dark alleyway, or a grand bed inside of a mansion, the man goes, and rests.

Sleep. As once said by the great playwright Shakespeare from his bloody tragedy Macbeth" “the innocent sleep, sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care, the death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath, balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, chief nourisher in life’s feast.”. It is a state in which many beings withdraw to in order to regenerate and cultivate their mind and body. A phase in which creatures must reside in for at least once in a short period of time, or they would risk their sanity and strength. Those without sleep are as hollow as a wraith. Devoid of any purpose, they aimlessly drift around. Having lost their minds, they are reduced to a soulless shell unceasingly murmuring like an insane asylum resident. Sleep is an important part of what makes us sane and retain our presence of mind, and to keep us from going mad.

As we are milling about during the time of day, we make and expand our conscious thoughts. We can clearly process things, for we are refreshed from a sufficient day of sleep. You see that object beside you right now? Pick it up. In conscious thought, we are able to discern whether the object is capable of being lifted by oneself. If we are able to, we will lift it. If we cannot, we don’t. Our conscious thought is like a river of logic, flowing through our decisions rationally with a reasonable amount of control.

During our sleep, we can go beyond the back of a wardrobe. It’s like you can fleet footedly bound straight over the channel separating the world of the reality with the majestical realm of your thought. In that meta-physical realm, your mind decides the rules. Everything is subject to your subconscious, which voices yourself at a much deeper level than you may expect. While you are sleeping, secrets of yourself are revealed. Feeling takes over logic" which could result in very different things in what you do in reality. Time does not flow right. It could be 1:28 in the morning and 4 in the afternoon at the same time. However, all of this doesn’t matter. It is you that rules this world. Me that rules my world too. Shape your world to your liking. Mind your own business. Your world is yourself. Dream whatever you want to dream.

Speaking of dreams, this is where I come in.

My world is very different to those of the people who wander awake. I lie beneath all of that, hidden away from the appalling noise ringing from above. From the deep I watch, and delve into the hearts of those who are in their minds. You are probably thinking that I am a malicious entity who seeks to make the unsuspecting rabid, but fear not. I am simply a spectator and presence in which people can converse with so they are not alone within their bleak and whitewashed world.

Throughout my life, I have met many people. The ones who are about to pass to beyond the time of their life, to the abstract meaningless rambles within a baby’s dreams. I have seen many thousands of them. I counseled the weak and isolated, and subjugated the vanity of the proud. I am an unseen influence which nobody is aware of, for dreams come and go and are forgotten easily.

However, even though I have discovered many secrets hidden in the depths of a person’s consciousness, I do not know about myself. I do not know where I come from. I do not know my name. Up until fifteen years ago, I have no memory of my former self. What is the cause of it? What is my real age? This is a secondary objective I have in mind in exploring dreams. To find answers. People lie at the surface of the pit of understanding where they explore the physical qualities of the world. I lie in the middle where I can observe not the physical realm, but gaze above into the mental qualities of other beings. However, what is underneath, I know not.

You may be asking, "Why does a seemingly supernatural being such as you keep a record of these things?", or "Why are you telling me this?". Well, if you’re reading this, it is probably the physical manifestation of the copy of knowledge I have cast up to the surface of the human world. Wherever you find this, heed its message. It may be through your ‘internet’ utility, or an old torn book. Maybe even inscriptions on an ancient layer of rock. All that I know is that it will be there. Somewhere. Eventually to be found by man, or perish with the destruction of the world. I make this record so that I can recover my way, as I do not know when my mind will be wiped blank again, or when I will die.

Hearken, reader. Listen to my words, as soon the chance may disappear. This concerns today.

This concerns yesterday. This concerns tomorrow. You may even find secrets which may turn your society on itself. Listen to me. Listen to my story. I am the dreamwatcher.