I aged into it. As a child, I loved them. I lived for them. I now know I wasted so much time, head in the clouds, certain the world would change through dedication and hard work.
It hasn't. It refuses.
And so, as many who have gone before me, I find dreams and any semblance thereof,c to be of little value.
Dreams are nightmares waiting to happen.
Dreams are waiting for a seeming eternity and yet "fulfilled" in anti-climaxes.
Dreams are internet trolls pranking us.
Dreams (well fulfilled ones) live in a village I can't find the directions to.
Dreams are debilitating.
Dreams take your breath away and laugh as the sparks of hope that once danced in your eyes flicker out.
Follow your dreams, be brave, step on the edge, fall to a figurative death.
Get better or get bitter, or best yet, stop having dreams and there's nothing to worry about.
F*ck hope and her sister faith.
Dream at your own risk.
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