How to eliminate the conflict between dream and reality, between poetry and life, between action and thought. Merge into a single being. To fail is death, and death, like our dreams, has its own semantics. What do we ever really know of another person; can we ever decode our dreams and know ourselves, or even become our true self? No, not until after death (how very greek), and our story's been written. Fear of insignificance, the essence of self-tormenting hate. Life (fate) is determined by our profession and marriage, and from that point on we regret the choice and yearn to be on every other path left unchosen, or at least see how it would've played out. Since we don't realize our other potentials or possible lives, our dreams taunt us to chase what could have been.