Below, you will find some of the greatest lines ever inked by mortal man:

Hamlet, Act 2 Scene 2
HAMLET

Denmarks a prison.

ROSENCRANTZ

Then is the world one.

HAMLET

A goodly one; in which there are many confines,
wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o the worst.

ROSENCRANTZ

We think not so, my lord.

HAMLET

Why, then, tis none to you; for there is nothing
either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me
it is a prison.

ROSENCRANTZ

Why then, your ambition makes it one; tis too
narrow for your mind.

HAMLET

O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count
myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I
have bad dreams.

Ponder that for a momentr

The difference between a king and a prisoner is naught but how he dreams.

This line, were it not that I have bad dreams, pops in to my head sometimes when I have insomnia. It seems to say to us that were we able to sleep calmly, we would not be so troubled. If only we could be blessed with happy dreams, we would awake with a smile on our faces.

But this is, sadly, not the case. Above, the infamous line of Hamlets: there is nothing
either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. There is nothing either good or bad, including dreams. Yet, for the most part, dreams are decided to be good or bad long before one is awake to think about them. The subconscious mind controls the body and tells you, via your autonomic system, whether the dream is good or bad.

But thinking makes it so: Our mind colors all experiences and filters all we see and taste and touch and hear through a prism that splits these things in to the categories of good or bad. Some of us have warped or cracked prisms. Some of our minds filter everything to the bad side of the spectrum. Some of us are incurable.
I have bad dreams: And some of us dont dream. Yet not dreaming may be the worst curse of all. True, one is never bothered by nightmares if they fail to dream, but what is being lost? Of course, I am not a dreamer, so I do not know if I am missing out or if I am better off. Perhaps the lack of bad dreams is what keeps one sane. Perhaps it is ones dreams seeping through to reality that causes dementia. The inability to differentiate between the dream and wakefulness.

And yet, despite my total lack of dreaming, bad dreams or otherwise, I still know how Hamlet feels. I sometimes think, Life would be so perfect, if not for this insomnia. I would be well rested and happy. I would not be in the constant pain and discomfort I experience on a daily basis. I would dream. I would have happy dreams. Dreams of flying, and dreams of love, and dreams of happy endings. And from the dreams would spring hope. And from the hope would come ambition. And from ambition I would find purpose. And from purpose I would find happiness. This is, of course, all bullshit.

As for now its way past my bedtime. So I will leave you with another familiar quote from Hamlet to boggle over.

HAMLET

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wishd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, theres the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: theres the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;