Rising up from the ground, there is a heap of objects. A heap built so tall, that it stretches above the cloudy sky. At the top of the mound is a solid platform where humanity lives.
Or, so we think.
Although our lives intertwine flawlessly, we each are on our personal frail heap of objects. The larger mounds are covered with smaller piles, which are covered with thinner stacks of objects, and onwards.
As we sit above the clouds on the high piles, the towers of objects sway in the wind. But they aren't really swaying, because they aren't really there.
At our place on top of our piles, we live our lives. Usually we don't notice that we are so dangerously high. We don't notice that the mounds are swaying. We don't notice that they could tumble any second. And most critically, we don't notice that the mounds aren't really there.
You wake up on your pile as you do every day. However today is different. The clouds that obstruct the view of the truth have momentarily parted. You peak down over the edge. The ground calls to you. You begin to slip. You frantically reach around you, grabbing at the objects you surround yourself with. You realize that they aren't really there. They don't support you anymore. You plummet towards the ground.
You fly past your tower of objects, where you lived your life on. The nonexistent objects are more visible, the objects that holds up your world: Your desires, your opinions, your knowledge, your life experiences. Each component supports the others.
Your pile is near other people's piles, by the people's towers who are in your life. You can see many people's heaps now. They support others' piles. The imaginary objects constantly shift as people's ideas change. You see the pile that their stacks are built on, a pile composed of fads, money, materialistic goods, laws, etc. Below, you can a massive imaginary mountain holding those up, made of religion, ethics, science, and the like.
Perhaps some objects aren't entirely imaginary. However they are all so genuine, that's it's impossible to tell which ones are real and which ones aren't.
With your end is hurling towards you, you find it strange that the scenery has decided to educate you. You're sure that the memories are useless, since they will soon be lost once you splat on the ground.
And as you pass through empty space, with objects that aren't really there flying past, you begin to wonder if it is you who isn't here. What proof do you have that you are here? All you have to rely on are memories; memories that have the tendency to be faulty. And once your life is over, the memories are lost.
And now that the true ground is approaching, you close your eyes, and deeply wish that you could return to your life. You brace yourself to prepare to hit the solid base of life; The meaning of life.
Your body twitches as your brain convinces you that you just fell very far. As you open your eyes, though, you realize you're in your bed. It was just a dream. The clock glares at you with its glowing numbers as if to motivate you to get ready for today's challenges. You get up to continue the daily routine of living.
Welcome back to Your Imaginary Dream Land.