You know what my dream really is?
It's not world peace or utopia, although that would be nice.
It's not fame or fortune, but that could help.
It's not being the best of the best [writer, whatever] and be recognized for that, although it would please me.
It's not just happiness; that's too vague, although I do want it.
It's not love; I already have that, although it's really nice.
I realize, my dream is really to be able to pick up and go anywhere in the world, anytime, and experience the landscapes, cultures, lifestyles, people, food, sights, sounds, everything. To leave everything behind and not worry about anything. To be able to travel the world, to do all the things I think of doing. Just pack my duffle bag (or not), grab my passport, and go. Now that would be a life. And that would be a dream. For me.