Dreams do feel like little universes, don't they? A place where the mind sprinkles stardust on thoughts, and every idea is a tiny star that can be drawn in the margins of our own subconscious notebook. Maybe our brains are just quiet explorers, flicking through parallel rooms of possibility while we sleep. It’s a beautiful idea, and the more I think about it, the more the night feels like a doorway into a hidden galaxy of imagination.