Dreaming is good. But dreaming is bad, because it hurts. Dreams die. You grow up thinking you are invicible, forever amazing. You grow up realizing it does not work that way. You grow up to realize the people around you want you to be safe.
Life isn’t about being daring anymore. Life is about having a safe future. Pick a safe job. Live your life. Enjoy it when you can.
But the fireceness of life leaves you.
Adults burn the fire in you. Cold water on your dreams, wash them all away. Adults throw you in the wilderness to make you realize. Realize life is not a game anymore. Adults burn the fire in you. They feed your insecurities. Cultivate your fears. Then feed them back to you. They’re scared. They don’t want you to face a wall of disappointements. But they won’t let your try, either. Adults burn the fire in you. Not consciously. Slowly. Mysteriously. And suddenly you, with all your dreams in your heart, face doubt.
Doubt.
The worst feeling. Worst than love. Worst than hate. Doubt. Sinuously cracking your hopes and dreams.