from wikipedia: Morpheus (pronounced /ˈmɔr.fjuːs/; Greek: Μορφεύς, Morpheus, or Μορφέας, Morpheas, "he who shapes [dreams]") is the Greek god of dreams and sleep. Morpheus has the ability to take any human's form and appear in dreams, but is described as having wings on his back when in his true form.
Morpheus' dream world is protected by the Gates of Morpheus, which had two monsters capable of becoming one's fears, a method to drive one away. Only other Olympians could enter Morpheus' Dream World. It is notable that his dream world is where his family lived - other gods that were exiled out of Mount Olympus. Notable features of Morpheus' dream world are the Rivers of Forgetfulness and the River of Oblivion.
Sometimes when I look up at the stars I'll contemplate the infinite space that stretches before me and panic. My breathe will become short and jagged my heart will race and my head will spin. The same can be said for when I think about the world as a dream. What if I am sleeping? I would hope I would craft myself something a bit more mythical than the stagnant routine I normally produce day after day. But as I've explored before would this not take all the beauty out of life? Why is it that we as humans must be moved into action by some sort of catastrophic event. Why is it so hard to live as if we knew an author was meticulously planning our death in a matter of days? Questions like this both haunt and provoke me and perhaps I can one day produce satisfying answers for them all.
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