Nobody ever told me that there was something wrong with dreaming.  All my life, I’ve been a dreamer and no one ever told me that I wrong of doing so. But somehow, when I come to think of it I know that there is, but I can’t seem to make it out.  Deep down inside me there’s a strong doubt about this thing called “dreaming” because if it was good, then I wouldn’t feel bad inside. As I think of my dreams now and then, I end up down on my knees  praying and wishing it would end because the more I dream, the more my spirit is brought down. There’s nothing wrong in dreaming and that is a fact, it’s dreaming that someday that dream will come true.

      I am all about dreaming and I’m all about wishing. I wish that I were beautiful. I wish I were smart. I wish was rich. I wish, I wish, I wish. I wish and dream so much and at the same time, I was that half of the things I dream of would actually come true. If I could picture myself the way I wanted to be in the next 10 years, I would be a rich and famous psychiatrist for young teenage girls. I would even have my own book! I would also have my own store for teenagers with the best designs and interior. I would have cafés in my name. I would be happy and sincerely contented. This is what I picture my life would be. Sometimes, I dream so much that I know this would soon be a reality but then, as much I want to keep believing sometime or someone always pinches me to the reality that maybe, that just might not happen.

      So now I find myself crying in the middle of the night wishing that I never dreamt to begin with. That if I didn’t dream these stupid dreams, things would be easier for me to handle and that I wouldn’t feel soo bad.

      Dream the dream, don’t live in it.

                  TAKE ME AWAY