He sits at his computer, breathing deeply, his fingers resting on the dirt stained keys of his ergonomic keyboard. A tear runs down his cheek.  After more than an hour of analyzing his life, letting his thoughts fill the screen, he takes another deep breath, drags the mouse to save his thoughts, and says to himself, “I guess its over.”  He has come to the rational conclusion, as much as it hurts, that he has been living in a dream world.  Turning off the computer, he slips into bed, knowing that tomorrow he must face the reality of life.
 
 
A young man sits silently alone, surrounded by cacti, palo verde trees, rocks and gnats buzzing about his ears.  His cheeks are a little sunken and his body trembles from hunger.  He has not eaten in more than two weeks.  The foundation upon which he built his life is crumbling and he is clinging desperately to a hope that will not be fulfilled.  “Where are you?” he cries out in desperation.  Silence, deafening silence, silence more vast than the universe, is his reply.  And he knows that this is the beginning of the end.
 

He is walking and a very small, cute, black and white beagle looking dog is half running a few feet in front of him.  The sky is dark and gray.  The wind is moaning.  And the drops of water begin to fall upon him.  He turns his face up to the sky with a smile, his arms stretched out, to let the water caress his skin.  His heart overflows with a kind of feeling he has never known.  “It’s good to be alive,” he whispers to himself, “It’s good to finally be alive.”
 
 

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