There was a time when I believed in dreams. I had hope, this little glimmer of light that had miracoulsly survived every storm I had weathered in life. When the torrents of suffering dragged me down into the abyss I would look to that small flickering beacon and find my way back to the surface.    Some people wish for a family with a nice house and a fence. Others might desire a career that allows them to leave their mark in the sands of time. Perhaps fame and fortune motivates their soul, wanting nothing less than the best things the world has to offer. Everyone has a driving force that moves them in life, the gales of intent that keeps them upright when they should be down.     These ideals that move us, that shelter us from the torrential downpour that is life, they make up a core of purpose. It is in this center, the eye of the storm if you will, that who we really are is revealed. There is no right or wrong when we strive for something, there is only our pure, unadulterated des