Too few of us believe in the possibility of our dreams. We brush them off with sleep still in our eyes. I see them, as myself, self-defeated and submitting, while others chase ambitions of ideals created for them, not for themselves. Our collective eye has been covered over with the patch of things that are not of us. We are tucked into packaging, individually wrapped, with no awareness of how close we are to touching one another. It is far too difficult to reach out with yourself so tightly bound.