As I lay in the undercurrent of a loss, I wondered looking sideways, facing away from the stained walls of my room, and ignoring the strong sunshine, looking through it as if it didn’t matter; “Is this really the turning point of my life? The moment after which I never saw a low, only soared higher?”
It surely was a pity to even have thought letting go was so easy. It clearly wasn’t. A dream that had secretly accompanied me for years now (I honestly don’t remember when it met me for the first time), how on earth can I abandon it, just for some petty people who think I can’t fly?
It made me jump up from sleep, startled I could even dream something so far (or so it seemed), it made me blush in a weary irritated crowd of 9-5 employees, and funny how they’d inspect me head to toe, hissing, “Kids these days! So dreamy in love. Face the reality, beta, and you’ll know what life is”.
I knew how exactly to hide those dream clouds, under my pillow every morning and put on the heavy bag of responsibilities and strut forward. It amazed me, on some weekends, when I tried to rinse my bag, once in a while, to see I carried these rubbishes with so much (fake) delight.
“It’s a shame”, they said. How can you dare to dream? Dreams?? What are they supposed to do? Does it feed you? Keep you warm? Run a family? What about the clock ticking and you inching towards death?
People I tell you!
Picture from: Pinterest