It had always been a mystery to me; why we dream what we dream. What sparked the images, the stories that played out inside our unconscious minds? Was there a meaning to them, or were they just random pieces of events, fragmented into a collage of personal surrealism?

I was in a coma once, following a road traffic accident. Several months cut off from the outside world, cut off from my loved ones; alive, but not living; not in the physical world, at any rate. I walked, an ethereal nomad in a spiritual plane. And I learned much. I saw much.

Dreams, would you believe, are a gateway into the intertwining dimensions of peoples lives. They are the buried ambitions, the unrequited loves, or the guilty secrets pulling us all down. They are the fears, or the hopes that we suppress from all but ourselves.

While walking, I discovered the key to these gateways.

I can see these dreams. Your dreams. Your friends’ dreams. I can see your nightmares, too. In fact, there are no visions, no abstractions, no daydreams, reveries or even simple wishes that are denied me.

I can influence your thoughts in these vulnerable times; convince you of great things, or shatter your strongest beliefs. I can make your day, or destroy your world. You should fear me, or you should worship me.

This gift, this curse, was not something I asked for. It came to me as I passed. But I was not ready to pass; not yet. Not without achieving greatness. Not before I’d made my mark on the world; before I’d made my mark on your world.

What will you dream tonight, I wonder?

Watch for me, for I shall be walking beside you.