Welcome to the home of the 'Origins of the Dreamweaver'...

Hey there everyone!

I wanted to thank you all once again for supporting this artistic endeavor! To further show my thanks, I want to post a selection of the book for you all to see before anyone else. It's a private sneak peak just for you!

I hope that if you enjoy this, you will show your friends and family and will get other friends within Steam to join this group!

Let's make this an unforgettable happening!

Take care and talk soon!

Hope you enjoy the text!

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Origins of the Dreamweaver

as contemplated by: Himself

With Special Thanks to Gaby Di Zitti

The History

I have changed. I am not the man that I even once knew to exist. I’ve incomprehensibly accomplished a great many tasks that others cannot begin to conceive at a time when I was yet to be fermented, and yet, my focus has undeniably been on the negative, been on what I’ve done wrong, in what ways I’ve failed. The same frame that I question internally amazes others. It's the base idea of how I can be such a being whom holds such great power in so subtle a form that caresses their intellect so.
I do realize, as beings of order, creatures of habit, you usually assign signifiers to each other to differentiate from one another. If it helps your unconsciousness to further assimilate the information I pass on, then please call me, ‘Dreamweaver’. The name and reputation that precedes the identification of my previous presence may be unknown, forgotten, misunderstood, or ignored altogether, but it will never be effaced from my memory. The manifestation before you is not of flesh and blood, but of pure, restless energy left here to pass on a few helpful nodes of guidance for those less inclined to think for themselves, to stand up against conformation, and to bring to attention the things that we wish not to address and would rather ignore.
Think about it, if one should happen to consistently ignore the negative aspects in life, then, death may be the best outcome for them. Without steady examination and contemplation of past events and occurrences, what may be learned? Tell me! What may truly be learned? In comparison, if one should happen to consistently ignore the beauty and wonder that may be found in life and choose to only focus on who’s ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ them and how hard, what may be gained respectively? In my time, I learned, and I now understand that to regret is to have truly gained knowledge about one’s self. In effect, I've also gained knowledge about the endless possibilities of the human termed universe and how to listen to your own internal reflections.
So, to begin the process of examination of the time already come and gone, I will begin at my end, only to end at my beginning. From my examinations, or discussions, or contemplations that of which you will read, information may contradict, and thoughts may collide. In fact, if I should feel so apt, I will give you a direct line, direct insight into my own consciousness and the insatiable storm that plagues me internally day by day, minute by minute, second by second.
What you call “life” began in the vessel you envision before you. Only difference is that, as in your beginning I was smaller, less adept and able to communicate as in the present, and had the incontinence of a 90 year-old rest home resident. I cannot give you a true 'physical' description of my vestige as I exist not in the conscious world any longer, but rather the unconscious, or the 'Dream State.' So, if you should feel so inclined to need to see me in your mind, I give you full creative license to visualize me as you should feel fit. Now that we are clear on that, let us progress.
My parents were two hard working city-folk, one, a renowned psychologist, and the other, a successful scientist. Having the wherewithal to question society was a given and I was one of the best at it at such a young age. Home was a two story building in the heart of all the action, yet just far enough from downtown to feel safe and secure. It seemed that life’s origins were setting me in the direction for happiness and success. The sentiment in regards to the unknown future in the last statement was correct, but the context of that current point and time was not.
Love and emotion ran rampant within my home. I loved and was loved. Emotions flourished, sometimes, as is part of life and growth, arguments arose, and yet comfort abounded. They taught me from the moment the door of perception was opened in my mind everything they knew. Science, psychology, and philosophy became constant in my mind. I never stopped; I never looked back. My brain would reel for seconds that transformed into minutes, and minutes to hours. I couldn’t sleep, and when I did, I dreamt in theories and contemplations. You could say it was the perfect conditioning for mental growth.
On a sidenote: because of this contemplative mental growth, I have learned to despise perfection. 'Perfection' is only an excuse, an unforgiveable reason to bring to a halt the search for greatness, for mastering what has the possibility to be mastered. Perfection is not perfection. No. Paradoxically, imperfection is perfection.
One of these sleepless nights a storm rolled in that blanketed the city in a mix of dampness and darkness. I can remember being on edge when the first drop of life fell from the heavens. The sight was beautiful and the feeling transcendent, but, once again, much too perfect. As my parents finally slipped into the sweet release of slumber, a sudden cacophony erupted from the floor below. Even at a young age, I knew instantly the source of the sound: someone was breaking in. Immediately, I heard the frenzied footsteps of my parents waking, gathering what defensive tools that they could, which amounted to a couple of baseball bats, and rushing downstairs to defend their young and their territory. Silence pervaded the house and as I crept slowly to the top of the stairs, two loud shots rang out… Two loud thumps sounded.

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