I find myself in a haze each morning, struck with confusion and a distant memory out of reach. It’s a lonesome feeling with no real ideas attached, as I myself do not recall it’s origin, but yet it scares me. This unknown entity that consumes my mind as my consciousness blends from the darkness to the light. As my eyes open and see the sun, and my life begins to play again. The night scares me as it approaches, in anticipation of the sleep. When I know I will have to close me eyes to open them in fear. I’ve lived many nights in the world of dreams, worlds my mind has created for me to explore. I’ve lived many nights where my nights were not noteworthy, just blinking lights after the darkness calls. I lived each night quite normal like the last but each morning my mind fell deeper and deeper into a sense of something unfulfilled.

I’ve lived many nights as this darkness grew deeper, as the nights of my free world became the lives of another. When I realized that I was dreaming, the fear in my wake died. I sleep each night and explore these worlds consciously created by others minds. I’d look deeper and deeper with each passing night, as that’s all that I knew I could do. I felt like a piece in puzzle under a couch, out of sight but important nonetheless. I was not the dreamer, I was the dream, and the person that is dreaming was looking for me.

The fear I am so familiar with returned again, as my only friend. I’d run and run in the endless fields, waiting for the morning where I could be free. It’s an obsolete effort that was no use from the start as the dreamer can dream whatever he dreams about.

My life was my own, and it was my freedom, but I had become the dream. The dreamer would dream of me in such ways that not even I was me. I thought this would be fun, that it could be nice. I thought the flowers of paradise were within my control. But my life was held delicately by the will of someone believing I was theirs. Their thoughts. Their toy. Their imagination.

My world began to crumble as theirs came to an end. The light consumes the darkness, and those who play pretend. It appears that I have become a part of the darkness.

When the dreamer wakes up, their dreams end.