I grew up dreaming.
Didn’t we all, you think.
We all did, indeed, each with our own “Castles in the air” as Louisa May Alcott so eloquently depicted in her novel.
But, what happens when that castle becomes your refugee?
When you hide inside it to save yourself from the present by conjuring up that better future?
But worse, what happens, when you are here in the future and that castle rests on your shoulders, heavier than the tallest skyscraper, wider than the Great wall of China. A whooping palace, that is as daunting now as it was appealing, due to the mere fact that you see the realities of the world around you now more clearly than you ever could before. Due to the fact that your handicaps are out here in the open for you to take notice of.
Due to the fact that you are running out of time and the noose around your neck is getting tighter.
What do I do now, when it all seems to be slipping away?
Do I change my dreams?
Do I fight harder or do I let them engulf me and take me down?
I put these questions to you as much as I do to myself. Because, when your dreams start feeling like an extra load, do they really remain dreams? Or do they become something worse? Something unfathomable?
If you begin to see no future without them, are they really worth it? Or are they worth more?
Dreams, can they one day become your worst nightmare but at the same time seem to be your only salvation?