We are Onieronauts. We are explorers of the Dream World. We blur the line between waking life and sleep. And we're watching you. It's strange how many people forget that you spend 1/3 your life sleeping. People have forgotten the importance of dreaming. Less and less people...

We've all felt it. You're up late. Working, studying, watching a movie, reading on the computer. Doesn't matter what you're doing, it's the feeling you get. You're tired, your eyes burn and have the gritty feeling you get after not sleeping for a while. Ok you can't...

I slept fine last night. Didn't sleep so well Sunday though. It was my own fault, really. I did tell him he was welcome in if he pleased. My dream began like one of those horror games you might see, like Silent Hill or Alone in...

You awaken with a high pitched ringing in your ears. Gradually, the sound becomes softer, like the humming from your refrigerator, and eventually, it stops completely. Even after a peaceful night's rest, your eyes are not ready to open. Your instincts urge you to KEEP...

A young girl suffered from insomnia, and throughout the night she'd often wake up for no reason. One night she awoke, and in the daze of half-sleep, she blinked in the darkness. Just for a second, she thought she saw a pair of reptilian eyes, gazing at her and glowing red. She sat up and stared at them, quickly realizing that it was only her clock. It was 11:11. She sighed and tried to go back to sleep. The next night, she awoke and instantly looked at the clock. It was exactly 11:11. This began to repeat itself night after night. Sometimes even during the day, for no reason whatsoever, she would stop whatever she happened to be doing, and spin around to look at the nearest clock; always at 11 minutes past 11 o'clock. As her insomnia got worse, she thought she'd try some white noise to help her sleep. She turned on her clock radio to play music softly. It worked well, so she kept doing it for the next few nights. One night, she awoke with a terrible start, covered in cold sweat. Rather than being in a sleepy daze, she was completely awake now. The radio was still on, but instead of music she heard static, and a lot of erratic clicking noises. Breathing heavily, she stared at the glowing numbers. You know what time it was.

It has been reported that some victims of rape, during the act, would retreat into a fantasy world from which they could not WAKE UP. In this catatonic state, the victim lived in a world just like their normal one, except they weren't being raped....

I'm about to do a very stupid thing. I know it's stupid. I know it. But I don't think I have a choice anymore. And I have to do it now, while I have the nerve and the will and while my hands are still steady. I'm sick. I've always been sick. Some days are better than others. When I was young my parents prayed that it might just be a precursor of the onset of epilepsy, but the seizures never came. I just… can't trust myself. I see things. On some days, I can hear them and smell them too. I should say that I used to see them. After being on every possible combination of pills three doctors could come up with, I thought we'd finally found the right chemical key for my misfiring brain. It's been six years of stability and relative normalcy, trading a halfway house for a tiny studio apartment, a collection of mostly tolerable side-effects, and a steady job. I realize this probably sounds dull for most people, but I cherished every moment of that achingly simple monotony. It went bad all at once Friday morning. I awake from the first dream I've had in years, a vivid phantasmagoria of colors and sounds, and begrudgingly leave my perfect and sterile clean apartment for the short walk to work. I notice it as soon as the elevator opens, the unearthly stillness and silence in the heavy air. The front door of the complex is hanging open, unlocked and swinging gently, the faintest trace of smoke drifting inward in the damp breeze. Outside, the wide streets are empty and bare. My mouth is suddenly dry and I rock back on my heels, cresting a crippling wave of panic and dΓ©jΓ  vu.

10.7.2004 Jennifer, friends and family of Mark, As promised, here are copies of the correspondence I received from Mark over the course of the last month. For the most part, I have merely copied and pasted them from my email application. As you’ll read, he requested this, in...

It's a simple enough thing. It's all a part of the body's sleep processes. Sleep Paralysis, right? No big deal, really. Your body produces a chemical that paralyzes your body during R.E.M sleep to prevent you from hurting yourself by thrashing about during your...

A recent study by the National Psychiatric Institute in Boston, MA, concluded that no activity can account for the phenomenon known as nightmares. Whereas many dreams come from unconscious desires, most nightmares seem to come from an outside source independent of the individual. In fact,...

I live in a small apartment by myself, on the fifth floor. One night, a while back, I heard strange noises coming from down the hall. They weren't shouts and they weren't banging noises and they weren't people fucking. They were weird. They sounded like gurgling. Loud gurgling. Normally I don't give a damn about what goes on in the rooms around me; my stance changes when whatever is going on pisses me off. These gurgling noises were doing just that. So, I left my apartment and headed towards the door at the end of the hallway, which seemed to be the source of the sound. I banged on the door and shouted at whoever happened to be in there to shut the hell up. I stayed in front of the door for a little while to see if the noises would stop. They didn't. I banged again and shouted again.

I'd had them ever since I was a kid. I can remember being incredibly self-conscious about them, hiding them in my pockets under books and bags. The kids at school never said anything to my face, but I knew they were laughing behind my back. I remember...

You’ve been dating your girlfriend almost two years now. You often stay late over the summer and on weekends and arrive home long after the rest of your family go to sleep. Every night you drive the deserted rural roads back home from a pleasant evening...