My friends, my family, my acquaintences, my soldiers and my GOD. Mom, Bam, Dee, Anthony, Phil,
Abdul-Shahid, Sarran, DuEwa, Omar, Rick, Matt, Gannon, Derrick N, Ricki, Shim, Kris, Derrick H,
Fred, Lem, Shana, Megan, Tracy, Patrick, Yannis, Flor, Loren, Ariga, Rachel, Candace, Michelle,
Katie, Lissandre, Rebecca, Erica, Heather, Brian, Deb, Brent, Dave, Travis, the Sons of Malcolm,
the BPs, US movement, and the creator,

For many years, I have searched for meaning in two reoccurring dreams.  In one scenario, I
possess inexhaustible wealth and good fortune in a utopian world while in the other, I find
myself running on an endless sidewalk while the ground behind me collapses into a bottomless
pit.  I understand that “running nightmares” and utopian fantasies are commonplace.  However, I
am puzzled by the clockwork succession of each of these dreams by the other.  The Friday morning
after Thanksgiving I had an epiphany.

On a path extending beyond the horizon, with each step, I narrowly avoid the disaster posed by
the growing abyss.  With no hint of how far I must travel, there is no guarantee my feet will
land safely on solid ground even if I continue.  The moment I falter, I will undoubtedly and
unenthusiastically examine the likelihood of the existence of truly bottomless pit.  Along the
way, I notice others who are unable to run, some who are unaware of the approaching danger, and
many who simply allow themselves to fall in.  Making no assumptions, without self-pity, and
without looking back, I move on.  Although my future is uncertain, I am not preoccupied with
fear because I am aware that I can go as far as I am determined.

Now conscious and removed from my nightmare, my repose shields me from the underlying
similarities of my dream and reality.  Disaster is never far.  I can pursue success or run away
from failure.  For each step and each day upon which I arrive with my health and my
determination, I am adequately equipped to achieve my goals.   This dream is not about what I am
running from, but what I often take for granted: I am alive.

I wander aimlessly, admiring the beauty of my utopia while interacting with the inhabitants of
my "perfect" world.  Saying and doing nothing of importance, I am submerged in four-dimensional
wealth and surrounded by two-dimensional people.  “Having” is irrelevant—at the very least
redundant—due to the fact that “not having” (anything and everything) is an impossibility.  I
barely notice the blurry faces and blurry objects of my utopia becoming darker and more obscured
until finally I am awake.  This clearly being a dream I would never wish to end, I sit
disappointed, desperately holding on to a handful of images while reminiscing about my world
with no worries, no conflict, no stress, and no struggle.

Upon further review, I realize there also were no challenges and no stimulus.  Everything
responsible for shaping who I am didn’t exist.  I was oblivious to and unconcerned with the
world around me.  In my dream, I possess everything while leaving nothing to dream of, hope, or
work for.  I am stagnant, happy, and worst of all, satisfied.  I am neither myself, nor someone
I would have realistically wished to become.

I now understand why these dreams occur in succession.  Descending eternally, deeper and deeper
into the darkness of a boundless chasm, is in essence death itself.  The same goes for living
without breathing both ways, and allowing wealth to be a cause as opposed to a result.  In both
instances, you may never again touch ground and you may never again see the light.  My utopian
fantasy symbolizes not what I could have, but what I would lack and ultimately it represents
falling in.