jeru

The dreamer glimpses things he has never seen before, and they will change him forever. In the world of dreams, things happen that are not possible in the world he came from. Questions are answered, but the answers are in a language he has never heard before. He understands that language though, in the dream. Everything is resolved in the dream, or so it seems, but it all must remain in the dream–when he awakens, he will forget that language. It will be incomprehensible again. He will only remember that when he dreamed, he understood it. He will forget the music he heard in his dream. Music that made him fly, music that made him escape from his body, music that made him escape from time itself–but he will remember that there was this music, that there must be music like this, somewhere, even if it is only in dreams. The dreamer experiences everything passively. He lies asleep and it moves through him. These experiences may be more wondrous than anything he’s ever tasted, but they are perpetually out of his grasp. The dreamer has no power. He has no will. The dreams enter through him, and he is their vessel.