Dreams and their Nature [Article]

The beautiful illusion of the imagination, entwined with the conscience to bring forth a delight of ideas and places that the world no longer holds within its palm. Life and all its problems no longer exist, replaced with pleasure and happiness within the world which our mind creates, to leave us free and unburdened with the troubles of the mind, allowing us to ignore the constant processes that echo in the deepest realms of our mind. Alas, this is but one side of the coin where the other is far more sinister and cruel that one could ever imagine, a place where the darkness envelopes us with a vice-like grip and our single escape is to delve into the reality of life where the darkness could be far worse, the contrast between the darkness of life and the darkness of dreams.

Dreams, the ironic form of escapism that millions across the world are often blessed with as their conscious state falls, replaced with illusions and majestic creations that the imagination has created. Nightmares, the cold and bitter troubles that are brought forth from the deepest realms of our heart and mind, where the pain and the suffering was once thought forgotten, instead to be revived in the mind and the greatest fears within our heart are brought to life in the twisted illusion of escapism; the question is, are the nightmares an escape from life or an escape from the true pain of life?

The frightening contrast between the two, the blissful wonder of dreams and the bitter revelations of the nightmares which we cannot escape; one night, we shall awaken, feeling refreshed and relaxed as our dreams were of our greatest pleasures and another night, the darkness shall surround us and our feeble figure will awaken in a feverish state, immersed in the darkness of light as our true escape was from the twisted tales of our mind that were once forgotten. Why is it that we dream if we are to suffer chaos in the midst of sleep? Is this another cruel form of torture, burdened upon us through the will of a greater being?

I ask myself this, are we blessed to have such an imagination that can create such illusions, the bitter winds of the landscape, tainted with crimson blood, soldiers dead upon the battlefield as explosions echo in the distance. Are we blessed to bear witness to the delights of our sweet love in our dreams, the radiant glow of their face and the comfort and emotion that such a person brings to our lives. Are we, in fact, even dreaming at all?

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