Eons Between Sets

Disappointment, it seems, never lasts long before it turns to accomplishment or suggestive of gratification. I am brightly affectionate toward my dreams the majority of the time, as I become more versed in the practical affairs of an otherwise ordinary life, knowing more fully the analogous feelings produced when conscious instead. So the theme of this seems to be this: What if we treated compositions more like sets, as interpretations of our dreams and then our aspirations, and perhaps even more as wanderlust. Do we have to wait for eons between those sets?