In my dreams alone...

Chapter I. Every Day, Day After Day

These days, the moment I wake up, I look forward to the time when I go back to sleep.

Everyday is the same as usual. I wake up before the alarm on my phone rings, then I immediately go to the bath to wake myself up, then when all is ready, then I go ahead and leave my apartment and commute to the college.

You know the pattern. Sit down, wait for the professor, who either arrives late or early. Perhaps you talk to someone, perhaps not, as you glue your eyes to the screen, hoping that something will wake you up somewhere there, whether a game, some news, or the recent video shorts. Then an hour or so of discussions, and rinse and repeat until the day ends, from which you either go with friends for a bite to eat, or go straight home. I am fine either way, as though I want to get home as soon as possible, especially with the heat killing me, I do recognize that I need to spend time here lest I seem to be some outcast, which I am not... only at the border of such a label, at least.

After that, of course, I commute home, lay down my things, take a short rest, do whatever, and before I know it, I shall prepare myself for the true sleep.

No, no siesta, or short naps. To consider that I can simply sleep on the commute or sleep for five minutes and thus achieve what I want is stupidity. What I need is true, bona fide, eight-hours, REM, total dreamy, unconscious sleep.

It is not out of pocket to say that all living things desire some sleep. Science will perhaps say that to sleep is to help rejuvenate the body for the next day; in a sense, we are walking batteries. However, while I do see this point, I simply sleep because I want to enter my dream realm. I am perhaps what you would call a self-proclaimed "explorer of the subconscious". I have been exploring this strange world within me for the better part of three years, documenting as much as I can this world in journals before the inevitable vanishing of it all.

Perhaps it is the irregularity of it, the lack of logic, the vanishing of reality, or perhaps it is the closest one feels to seeing magic before one's eyes, but ever since I was a kid, I have always loved dreams, although it was only at the start of college that I truly began to explore it with some seriousness.

But all in good time. This narrative will come around to my various points of research on my dreams, but I began with this to point out clearly that I yearn for the dream world for my visitations and such, and all this writing about every day is my effort to begin it somewhere not immediately in media res.

What you seek, will arrive in the next chapter.