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other many possibilities.

Some people say the universe has been in existence for billions of years. Can you imagine how
close you came to never being born? How close you and I came to never having this one sided
discourse.

We've gotten to a time where the number-letter sequence is so high and so diverse that every thing
that happens now, in comparison to the time of the beginning of the universe, is unlikely to happen,
and because of this, some occurrences are credited to fate; this idea that this specific event was
destined to occur.

Chapter 17:
PAGE 1 OF 8, "THE EIGHT DREAMS"

Third year, January 5th, I had this dream. I had died a long time ago, but it wasn't the type of death
where afterwards people would attend your funeral or your wake; it was a spiritual death. I lost all
of my hopes but also lost all of my fears. Your beliefs, dreams, goals, they don't matter to you
anymore because you realize there is a possibility that your existence may serve no purpose.

What killed me was a note I had received, telling me that at some point in my life I would have to
question my existence. Question my purpose, my function. That I would have to accept the answer,
the truth that I find, because fooling myself would be pointless. This note stayed in the back of my
mind, growing silently like a plant. This note that someone left in place of my wallet.

Sometime later in the dream I am on the subway, and this man tells me that he gave me that note.
That he picked my pocket. He bumps into me, takes my wallet, leaves the note there in its place,
and now he is trying to give me back my wallet.

A normal person might be angry, but by this time that seed that this man planted in the back of
mind has grown fully and is flourishing, and instead I ask him why he did it.

He tells me that besides needing money for food, he did it because he wanted me to think about my
life even if it was only for a second. He asks me how I think someone would feel if one day they are
leaving their house, and in their mailbox they find a mysterious note like the one I found in my coat
pocket. How would someone react to that? Then I ask him if he has been doing this to other people,
and he says yes, he says he's been doing it for a long time.

He tells me that people get notes every day, it's just that some are more obvious than others. When
you're about to go to sleep laying down on that bed thinking about things, when you're driving
down that long stretch of road thinking about things, when you're walking through that bad
neighborhood thinking about things, all these moments are opportunities to better yourself.

Regardless of how good of a person you may be now, or how bad, there is always room for
improvement. Then he tells me that the improvement he's talking about isn't necessarily what you
get from giving to the poor or becoming a better parent, the improvement he's talking about is the
one you get from suffering, from misery and struggle. From finding light in the darkest corner.