On the edge of a desert cliff, staring down into an endless black, I wonder how I might cross. There is a fountain on the other side. Overflowing. Trickling down into the gorge. As long as I have been here watching it, sun beating me to ash, it’s been gathering below me. Years, years, years, it must be a river by now. So thirsty, the water could catch me.

I do not look back. Turn, walk the world around. Feet burn in the sand with every step. Everything is behind me, I know it. And everything I need is on the other side of that canyon. I know this. So I do not look back.

And when I arrive at the other side, when I finally reach the fountain, I drink from it. And I live. And then I look across the emptiness and see myself standing there, staring. Thirsty. Lost in dreams.

When I wake, I wonder which side I am on. If I’m really living or if it just feels that way. And I wonder if maybe, if I’m not willing to dive, if I should at least start walking.

Last night, I helped Batman apprehend two criminals that were escaping on a scooter with two great big bags of money. Finally, a dream that makes sense.

All things considered, I slept very well last night, even despite shivering into a sweater an hour before my alarm. I’d fallen asleep while watching a two-dimensional movie with someone that was on the other side of the water and halfway up a mountain. Earlier that day, we saw a movie that was in three dimensions. It was thrilling, and after seeing that, even real life has a tendency to seem a little less real. That is, without the glasses.

At the point when this took place, I could feel daylight softening across my face, but I was still very much asleep.

There was no line at all, anywhere, when I began to wait. I was just tired of moving, so I stopped. I heard a noise behind me and turned. There was a man, and behind him, another man. As I leaned further over, I could see a line of men endlessly behind me, all appearing from nothing, queued up; and and whereas before I was simply tired of moving, now I was at the head of something enormous. Now I had purpose that I hadn’t been aware of. And still, I did not know what it was.

This morning, I woke up without any idea how I was going to get my things to Vancouver. There was no way I could pack all my precious belongings into two – even three – bags. This is still what my subconscious believes, that possession is nine-tenths of my life.

In passing moments, my mind has been out walking. It comes across things that I’ve long-since forgotten and other things that I’d be best off to forget. My mind gets tired of walking and it lingers in these memories with no positive outcome other than to remember what I want to forget. I maintain in my best a pleasant demeanor, and this is who I am, but there’s another bit – one-tenth kept deep down inside – that could huff and puff and blow down a house of bricks.

I’ve been having awful dreams again lately.

I’d love to share them with you very soon.

There was a long road that I was walking on, which was hardly a road at all except that I was walking on it. It was actually unending dry sand under a scorched orange sun punishing me for being in its presence. I awoke in that place from an unsettling dream within an unsettling dream, the feeling of looking into opposing mirrors and staring at infinity. Confused, I moved forward, walking for hours and days and years without any idea where I was going. When I finally stopped, I looked down and saw my own footprints in the sand ahead of me. Panicking, I looked behind me, but there were no traces of me there. I looked up at the sun and shook my head slowly, turned around and kept walking. But it got no colder.

In my dream, we slept on the peak of a mountain overlooking the world. We were at the highest point, and we could see everything surrounding us with enough clarity that it seemed tangible. We did not fall if we reached too far. We could not be divided. The symbolism is obvious; though we may have dilemma and difficulty, together we have determination. Together we can reach for anything.