There are nights when sleep doesn't come. Or rather: the body relaxes, the eyes close, but the mind stays awake. In these days of persistent insomnia, I've found myself, almost inevitably, returning to a topic I studied extensively during my university studies in philosophy and humanities: dreams, and specifically what happens during the REM phase of sleep. Writing about dreams while sleeping little is only an apparent paradox. It's precisely when sleep is lacking that the mind reveals itself in all its intensity: thoughts that surface unbidden, fragmented images, memories that knock before the darkness even does its work. This is where this reflection was born, and it is where this article takes shape.
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