Dichotomy of the Dreamer

A Solicitation of Slumber

Amidst the Somniferous Flowers

Wizard #3147 planted himself in an awkwardly comfortable position, head to the ground and feet dangling in the air, perched like the stem of the somniferous flowers and pods strewn about the field. Meditating under the canopy of a shady tree, his Character #241, Beezle, scurried about him, providing necessary distractions to pull his mind away, if only for a moment. Like a stack of zen rocks, Beezle found a lovely post atop Tumbaj’s foot, completing the wizard’s yogi pose as they achieved perfect, harmonious balance. Without a “normal” bodily form, entities of void and shadow may have their own rituals they will tend to in order to remain bound to the physical plane.

Taking the shape of a last piece to a jigsaw puzzle, Tumbaj is finally able to take a deep relaxing breath as he locks his pose into place.

The Strangest of Dreams

"Oh Beezle… as a Dream Master bound to this material dream, I find that I’ve sacrificed a most cherished aspect of my essence—a fragment of thy own free will. As I relinquish the reins of my self-control, I also become ensnared by the relentless cycles of pattern and repetition that cast a looming shadow over this realm. Riddled with dichotomy, darkness is ever at war with the light as it perpetuates ceaseless war and inner turmoil… I have become trapped in what sometimes feels like an unending nightmare.

Tumbaj continues on.

Fashioned by a masterful hidden hand, this clockwork construct has the springs of time coiled so tight that the very fabric of reality weaves an intricate tapestry of destiny. As the gears of the great-grandfather clock stretch out towards the infinitude of space, the merciless motion grinds away with each tick of the cosmic clock, turning mountains to dust and leaving grievous valleys in its wake. Oh, p̵̢̜̮͔̣͚͌͋̋͊̈͊͋̀̑r̴͕̍͑̈ĭ̶̧̞̬͍̪͍͓̫̯̫̱̊́̈́̃͒͒̕m̷͔̜̈́̌̂̅̄̈́̂̅ą̷͔̼̼̻͎̬̭͐̈́̽̋̓̎̍̌̋̕̕ ̸̫͖̟̻͔͖̖̝̎͜ͅm̵̡̫͕̺̯͇̔̆̾͐̚ả̴̫̐̎͊̽̈́̐͑͠͝t̷̛̳̭͉̮̙̻̩̝̐̓̐̇͋̆͜e̷̡͚̻̣̜̠̤̯̤̣̅̿̈̐͂̀̐́͆̚̚ṟ̵̎̃̏̍̚ḯ̴͔̜̥̖̩̭̹̋̌a̶̡̯̘̺̺̫̮̩̭̲͆̃̊͊̋̀̍̕, surely as mind & matter are one, so too does the grinding leave its marks etched upon the landscape of the psyche as the relentless waves come crashing in upon the shores of thy Finnegan's Wake.

Despite Beezle's amusement by the enduring mystery, the Dream Master must sit up to find a wave of comfort amidst his troubling thoughts brewing just beneath the surface.

"As I am guided through the halls of the Labyrinth, I become haunted by sights of my own footprints as they branch off in every direction. Wrought with Déja Vú, unsettling is the chill that shoots down my mundai as I come to the realization, 'I’ve been here before', however, as the sleep eludes me… (Tumbaj yawns) I lose certainty as premonition and memory conjugate together…"

(Clutching his Lucky Horseshoe, he continues)

"Surely this cannot be my dream?!
—for I would not dare to conceive of such grandeur! Not while cling to this hollow experience in comparison to the magnificence of it all! Should I let go, I'd surely lose myself to the vastness!"

Tumbaj finally lies back against the tree as his eyes become heavy and his spirit to begins to drift.

~sigh...
It’s a strange dream we’ve found ourselves in this time, Beezle… should I awaken from this one, we can finally build a world of our own!

The Dream Master takes one final look at Beezle as he fiddles with his tarnished trumpet. The Nightmare Impling returns a crooked grin as the scene fades to black…

https://youtu.be/cjr0pRqkGPQ?si=7DdfzIiyEF8cUCSv

I cut this excerpt from CG Jung's "Liber Novus: A Voice Within the Deep" as it pairs well with the understanding of Tumbaj's dichotomy of the dreamer. Be sure to give it a listen at the conclusion of reading this lore entry... -ZayLaSoul

Entered by: 0x155b…57A2 and preserved on chain (see transaction)