John the dreamer

                Sleep is the best. John loves sleep, from the bottom of his soul. It's probably the best way to escape this fucked up world, and if there were ever a way to sleep through all this mess, John would be the first to try it. When he sleeps, he escapes the world, he escapes his world, and at the same time he escapes his mind. Because when his mind becomes darker than the night, there is no place too far from it where he'd rather be. And sleep, the simplest thing in the world, offers the easiest solution. What better escape from everything than a good old complete shutdown of the brain, what better place to hide from a shitstorm than Johns subconscious.

                And the best part, the most beautiful part about sleeping are, of course, dreams. John is a dreamer, an idealist, and the only place where something could go right for him is of course in his sleep. With every dream comes another world and all he has to do when things go bad is to wake up. Just like that, everything goes away and he's free to sleep himself back to another reality, a better reality. Nothing is real in his dreams, so nothing can hurt John, no scars nor bruises when he wakes up, no problems to solve, no situations to be dealt with. Just complete and utter freedom of thought and imagination.

                But wait, just wait. Because the real world, as usual, has to step in and screw everything out. Because that's what it does, this twisted reality in which the entire planet cohabitates. It screws with Johns plans, it breaks his world, breaches the walls of his dreams and pulls him out to face the reality of how fucked up he really is. Because everything that goes right in his dreams, goes wrong in his reality, and even worse in the real world. And the worst part, of course, is that you can't wake up from reality.

                The only thing you can do, the only thing John can do is go back to sleep. Escape one nap at a time, one small universe after another, shattered one by one by the sound of an alarm clock louder than a bomb and built again the next night, until there will be no more clock, and no more time, and Johns sleep will be eternal. But we all know that this won't happen too soon, because this little fucker, John by his name, is meant to walk this earth forever and drown forever in his mind of which we've talked over and over till now.