I will be your eyes and ears...

He once had a dream that his life would be vastly different than the one he is living now. He dreamt of mountains that reach the sky, of clouds that pour sand, of seas that are filled with an endless stream of pure water, of days that never pass, and a life that never fades. He's dreamt so many dreams, for so many years - now he stands before you, without the strength to conjure a single one. Perhaps this is what happens to everyone. As we grow up, we are taught that dreaming is an abundance we cannot afford, and wishing should rather be spent on the reachable, the graspable, the already achieved. He ponders if he is still him, if Karr is still Karr, if you are still you without the inherent attribute that formed us in the first place. Can this be real? Can the image staring back at him be of this world? Can it be sustained? Can it even survive?