You are your gate keeper-opener. Very good.

If someone else had the say on what your door opens to, you would not be in self-control mode.

We punch in various code words for our fortress entrance  to let in this convoy, or that one.

One night, when we’re looking in the fridge for something that we hope will stop our stomach’s growling, we don’t find anything that looks edible anymore .

We thought one of our delivery convoys is providing fresh, wholesome stuff for us, but the picture is way nicer than what’s inside the box. ‘What th…?

I’m so hungry! 'The box is full of --uggh!'

Weak and famished, we stumble away and look out our turret and see that our whole courtyard  is completely jammed shut with piles of old, smoke-belching vending trucks that got in using old access codes that we’d forgotten they have.

And they dumped huge stacks  of non-returnable fake foods that even ants won’t eat.

So we again go to bed hungry and tired from no rest- what a nightmare!

But tonight, you dreamt something wild.

In the dream, there was a snow plow with your name on the side and it has an access code:  A code. A code, L-O-V-E. The code is L-O-V-E?

I’ve seen that. But I didn’t think it was a code. I’ll try it.

And in the new dream, when you actually pressed the L, the first code letter, the rest of the code auto-filled itself and your snow plow started up and cleared away the junk convoys and made an new, open avenue to the world with flowers and beautiful everythings, and your drawbridge melted into a red carpet welcome mat.

Everything looked better and was tasty and satisfying and, though you could still see the piles of old wrecks, they weren’t in your way.

Wow, the new dream code let in a whole new food group convoy, and you now are busy hugging and making sure the beautifuls are self-served what they're hungry for, and that a good time was being lived and had by all.