“All men dream: but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dreams with open eyes, to make it possible.”
– T.E. Lawrence
I was dreaming again today. Not of the silent skies that are craving for us to fly in them, neither the scrapers nor the mountains were there. But, I dreamed of something. And, I wouldn’t call it a wonderful one, but something real, of this world. And those dreams? They are just not of the sugar-coated sweetness life is filled with. But, of the harsh reality that we have to deal with. It sends shivers down your spine, but the allurement of it never fades away.
I dreamed of the stupid humans, how they think that everything in their lives is going to fall into place. And, I dreamt myself being that stupid. I dreamt myself, pursuing a dream and seeing it get shattered. Shards of it piercing me, questioning why I dreamt it in the first place? I dreamed of scars of battle. A reminder of the times, I let every piece of me fall into making that dream come true.
At last, I dreamed myself getting up. Up, from the wretched things holding me down. Up, from the pieces scattered around. Up, with the courage to never let myself drown. Up for another dream, up for another round.
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