...

I don't dream, or atleast I don't dream often.

When I will myself away from whatever distraction I have that night and lay in bed I just fade into the void, the boundary between sleeping and waking up isn't clear but it's not instant. The haze of non existence wraps around me like a blanket. It quiets my thoughts and aleast lets me have some sort of rest.

Now dreaming is a whole different story, I dream only after I've woken once, be it in the middle of the night or the mornings where I have nothing better to do. I can't just slip back into the void, instead my mind gets free roam in how to replay my trauma. I guess my reluctance to sleep stems from this, there are entire painted worlds inside your dreams, only for them to be ripped away when the day comes. The kind ones are the worst for that, with the bad dreams you're atleast somewhat happy to escape them, the happy ones are tragic due to non existence, real life breaking the illusion your mind crafted to comfort you.

I'm sat here now avoiding sleep, Though I find comfort in the void it's not a pleasant feeling to be ripped out of every morning, the waking is the part I dread.

Unreality can be so much better, you don't need to sleep for this either, just paint the pretty pictures in your mind. You can weave a new reality for yourself, bounds and limits exist still to this as the real will still seep in and require you occasionally but pay that no mind for now, just think of the trees, of the rain and of comfort.

Clocking out of the banal and looking at the world from a new axis, tilting things in your favour

So tell me, Weaver of the Unreal, What will you make today?