So, have to confess that I never read Neil Gaiman’s Sandman. I was of a mind that I knew who Sandman was and it wasn’t some supernatural being, or force. My Sandman had a gasmask and a gas gun that put bad guys to sleep. I was nineteen, and was more into martial arts, sci-fi and superheroes… oh and I was constantly chasing uninterested women, spending way too much time at coffee shops and night clubs.
Now, here we are. Netflix has brought Dream to screens all over the world. I am getting into more Neil Gaiman talks on YouTube, and by the time this post goes live, we will be done watching the whole series. I have been gob smacked by the series so far. I am about to start the original comics from 1989 and it’s just the right time. If I went back and had to do it all over again, I would change a thing. Except for the clubbing and women.
At this point in my life, I enjoy my dreamtime more than I used to. I can recall my dreams rather well too. From those I had when I was four and up. It’s odd how vivid they all can be and continue to be. There are times when I am unsure whether the memory that I have was an actual event or a dream. It’s odd randomly living your day drifting in and out of your past events, and dreams. I don’t mind it. Perhaps Dream is my constant companion, and I am only now realizing it. He is welcome, and I can’t wait to get to know him better when I begin my journey through Gaiman’s writings.