They say that man is a creature of two worlds, the world of the living and the world of the dreaming. In the world of the living, we are all simply people, people roaming the planet doing jobs, paying bills and living our lives. In the world of dreams, we are all writers and musicians who create art, write masterful stories of fantasy and though we may be victims of nightmares at times, we are still able to express ourselves and enjoy ourselves with a kind of child-like freedom never to be found in the waking.
But while these two words are great, each in their own right, neither is the greatest of all. For while reality finds it's beauty in practical things and dreams in unabashed freedom there is a third word, an in-between world if you will, that has found a way to master the beauty of both.
This in-between world exists neither in sleeping nor waking but in the giant chasm between the two worlds. As we humans drift aimlessly through the night we are caught, even if only briefly, in this wonderful space. It's the only place where the two worlds touch, the only place where you can talk your problems over with a unicorn, practice your dance moves with a dragon or discuss how your friends treat you with a Cyclops.
It's the only place where ideas flow as free as water, where the limit to the answers one can grasp is limited only by the reaches of one's imagination and it's the only place where man is still sober enough to remember his problems, but still drunk enough off of the wine of dreams to answer them with super-human creativity.
It is truly the most perfect place imaginable. But it is never a place you can go to. Because unlike dreams or reality, it is not a destination, but rather a corridor. We are nothing but passengers through this strange land. All we can do is look out the windows of our carriage and watch as the two words collide and their fringes mingle to become a patchwork quilt made up of the fibers of both our worlds.
That is why we never spend more than a few precious moments here, a few moments as we go from awake to asleep at night and back again in the morning. If we as mortals set foot in this land, we would taint it like we have our others. This land is pure and pristine still and any nightmares or troubles occurring here are reflections we bring with us from our trips beyond, not a problem with the land itself.
So as I fall asleep tonight, I fall asleep neither for the comfort of dreaming or the thrill of awaking the next morning, but rather for the few precious moments in between. I know that without those moments the ideas I cherish and the creativity I so need would never be mine.
Much like the air we breathe or wood to a fire, these few precious moments are what fuel me and propel me forward. Without them I would stall and die, but with too many of them I would rocket into oblivion, pushed far beyond the edges of insanity, and never be heard from again.
That is a risk I will never take my friends, not in a thousand years of questioning nor a million years of answering. So no matter how much I love my trip through this place. I could never slow my trip through it; to do so would be fatal. Fatal to my mind, fatal to my body and fatal to my soul.
Because you and I dear reader are mortals, and this world was not made for us. It is our corridor, our passageway and nothing more. If you respect that it will yield you many great things. If you don't, it may kill you.
It's really that simple my friends.