I drive a yellow Lamborghini Diablo. I am an explorer of other worlds as I have been a Nasa astronaut for some years now. I work with a team of scientists who like myself are trying to unlock some of the secrets of Quantum physics in order to bring a time machine into being.

I live with my beautiful wife of 30 years in a home north of Los Angeles, with a breathtaking southerly view of the LA basin. We have raised four wonderful, happy children who regularly bring home the grandchildren for visits.

I nearly became an attorney with the thought in mind of defending those poor innocents that did not have the money required to defend themselves. However I dropped out of Columbia before completing my studies to focus on my physics PHD.

I have owned two very successful businesses

And there is just one thing wrong with this picture.

Just like the picture at the top of this entry, of Neptune on the horizon, nearly all of this just a dream.

Actually, it is a collection of dreams. Most of them from childhood, and early adulthood. And they were not mere passing thoughts. I truly believed I would live out every one of those scenarios. I studied, and tried to prepare myself mentally and physically to make those dreams come true. I never considered the possibility that I would not achieve what I desired. And some of those dreams did come true.

Dreams die hard. I just in the last two years, finally realized that all of mine were actually gone. I no longer had dreams. It was a devastating realization.

The death of a dream is not like the death of a person. There is no funeral. Worst of all, there is no announcement, no family and friend calling to spread the news. I don't know about anyone else, though I do know in my case, my dreams never died a sudden death. They just quietly slipped away. No fanfare. No closure with the fact that they are gone. It feels a lot like the feeling I get when I think of a missing person. They are gone, and probably dead. And yet, it is never final.

I want to dream again. I just don't know what I want to dream about. Maybe I can now that I have told the old ones good-bye. Now that I have mourned their death. Maybe I am finally ready to let them go in peace. Maybe a little while longer. I will mourn a little longer.

Today I will cry.