I’ve acquired the ability to dream while awake, while still in the realm of reality. When I was younger, I used to associate sleeping and dreaming as if they were reliant on one another, but I’ve learned better. Sleep is for the weak at heart, those who need to hide away in their fears in a world where hiding is not even a true possibility. I’d walk around the city and see people carrying years of problems in their eye bags like it’s not even a problem. 

Maybe it’s because I am a man who is contained in a teenagers body. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been fucked over by society constantly. Or maybe it’s because I was born in a hospital, and I’ve been sick since. 

I guess this would be a good time for an introduction. My name is Holder, I don’t like people. Or sleep. Or much of anything. I don’t have a house, but I do have a home. I guess you can call me a street kid, I would like to be called an adventurer. That whole “living in houses” thing, I’ve never understood it. It’s like your setting barriers for yourself that are constricting you from the real world. When I say the real world, I mean the real world, the one that isn’t so beautiful all the time.  

One thing I probably should mention, you know how I said I don’t like sleep, well there is a real reason behind that. I’m known for opening my eyes and not knowing where I am, not knowing what day it is. And no, I’m not a tweaker, or stoner, or whatever you want to call it, I suffer from narcolepsy. 

Like many people, I have a story, but unlike many, I’m willing to tell it.