I don't go about wearing rose-colored glasses. Also I realize the sad fact that religion has been trammeled, stomped and spit on. Still I turn to the forgotten discipline of philosophy to mediate my minds tempests. My personal philosophy allows for the oft mentioned contention of physicists - infinite or highly plural universes. In my darkest hour when the whole world denies me pleasure or satisfaction; when indeed my God is as apathetic as a grain of sand on a planet a galaxy away - I envision through my tears that the daydream, the core of my soul's desire, exists somewhere. Call it self-hypnosis, spiritual mumbo jumbo, or plain wishful thinking but it's MY vision. Considering the billions of trees falling never to be heard, people long past forgotten, stars never to be seen - MY vision is more real than any of them. We're told they exist; then what of my dream?