Who lost the key to the land of dreams and trapped mankind in roiled seas or worse landlocked with a wall his only view? Circumstance was it you? Perhaps you offered too much truth and locked our dreams out of reach or Destiny, could it be thee with some dark plan to harness man and keep control with your scheme, forbidding him through the gate to dreams? Choice it was not you, of this I’m sure, for if you had your say, man would spend the livelong day dreaming, languishing in that paradise where all escape the fishhook hands of care and woe and brute demands. No, it is not Choice nor Propriety; I am convinced of this. Dreams are born in ego’s bliss. If we search ceaselessly inside the id, we will find the key. It’s there, I think with many a sigh, that our dreams too often go to die.