I’m something of a dreamer.
I dream of projects I will never finish and of occupations I will never qualify for.
The vast majority of these dreams end, not only before they begin, but in a pessimistic depression that prevents me from even wanting to try, let alone dream.
And yet before long I began to dream again and repeat the cycle.
Why do I do this?
I am not sure of the answer, but the germination of the dream brings with it an euphoria just before the let down crushes me. So perhaps I dream for simply the enjoyment, however short it may be. Or perhaps like the addict, I dream to escape the reality I what I need to accomplish or where I am currently, no matter the lingering effects.
Is dreaming a defect?
Hasn’t man always dreamed?
And perhaps, just perhaps – one day a dream will become a reality…