The Afterglow of Dreams

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From the Desk of Lord Northwood

June 16th, Some places only exist behind our eyes—and still, they feel more real than the world we wake to.

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There’s something intoxicating about dreams.

Not aspirations, not ambition— I mean the ones we drift into, unconsciously, when the world goes still and the soul begins to wander.

You can travel anywhere. A far-off jungle. A quiet planet. An ocean escape where no one can follow.

And though some dreams are strange or terrifying, others offer a peace so pure it feels like being let in on a secret you didn’t know you were waiting to hear.

Some believe dreams are messages sent by the subconscious— clues, codes, echoes from the corners of your mind. Truths disguised in metaphors. Fears dressed in fantasy. Desires slipping through the cracks of reason.

You make friends there— faces you’ve never seen, yet you love them with the ache of someone you’ve known your whole life. And perhaps you have. They come from you, after all.

There is nothing quite like the afterglow of a good dream. That heady, untouchable high. A sweetness in the bones. Better than any drug. And if you’re lucky—just lucky enough— you can slip right back in by falling asleep again before the spell breaks completely.

But the longer we stay awake, the quicker it all fades. Names blur. Landscapes vanish. What felt profound becomes a phantom.

It’s a shame, really. That we treat dreams like passing nonsense, when they hold entire worlds. When they birth art, poetry, truth. When they remind us who we are beneath the noise.

Maybe that’s why some people keep dream diaries. Because some places are too precious to forget.

Because some messages are too sacred not to write down. And maybe that’s the magic of it—

What the heart remembers, the mind forgets. Faithfully,

Lord Nicholas Northwood