There are nights when the thought of what this world could be fills the synapses of my brain like a drug and prevents me from falling asleep for hours. Counting sheep doesn’t seem to work as it did when I was a child. Even with the occasional drift to other workings of my imagination, I always find myself back in the world I’ve conjured. A world of peace and scientific prowess. A world that stood and prevailed against the test of greed. A world utterly unified and devoid of anger and unnecessary death. A world with… …And so I snap back into reality, as I always do.