Dreams turning on like overhead lights
Flickering off, then on, then off again
An endless cycle of love, loss, and pain
Eyelids fluttering full-speed
Like a transatlantic train in the night
Twisting and turning in caverns bright
Yet lost to uninitiated eyes
No alibis for the wandering mind
The passing of the misty hours
Drowning in a sea of creation
Then emptying into open space
While the only good thing is time
Time to awaken from the nightmare
Time to readjust to the mundane world
That time when dreaming is done
That time when the only one you’re seeing
is yourself
Like a film of dust on a priceless artwork
Blown by the hand of fate
Revealed by the morning sun
Until the fog lifts, the air clears
Eyes snap open
Letting the new day in.
Sam
Sam's Online Journal 
You know, I do think a trans-Atlantic train would be a nightmare. I don’t even want to think about going through the Chunnel.
It sounds like a fun way to travel to me. You know, one time. With fingers crossed.