Every night we succumb to the grasp of fategue and relinquish our bodies to the control of unconsciousness. Within our slumber the mind embarks itself on a mysterious journey. It is neither initiated by rationality nor controlled by reason. We see faces of the past, faces yet to be seen, and the faces of ourselves only perceived from an internal perspective. We travel to places we've ventured before, but what was real becomes an illusion transfigured at will by our mind. Fantasy becomes as real as the tangible world.