I’ve come to the realization that some dreams are just dreams. They may consume you to the point of becoming the driving force behind everything you do, motivating some actions unnatural to who you believe you are and as a result revealing who you truly are. A dream may only be a little glimmer of hope inside you that you fight outsiders to protect, like a flickering flame on a candle against the winds of time and self-doubt, hanging on for dear life. Some people hold on to dreams as a reminder that they’re better than the other hum-drum people around them who’ve accepted their fate as a slave to the workforce or ‘daily grind’ of commuting and sitting in front of a desk hopeless and seemingly helpless to save themselves from the zombie-like monotony of a elementary job.
For some still, dreams are the last piece of innocence or youth they’ve got left. They hold on to it to keep from going completely insane at the realization that the dream itself is all they have left of the person they once were. I don’t want to carry the burden of an unlived dream.
At what point do we differentiate between what a realistic goal is and a farfetched dream you just aren’t made for? We are taught to not limit ourselves with doubt or fear, but is this the one thing keeping us from the devastation of failing? I’m not sure, but I know how it feels to fail. I know how it feels to want something so bad you can taste it and to almost have it in your reach only to have it taken away from you so swiftly you realize it was never yours to begin with. This is heartbreak. This is torture.
In a very general way, we are taught to fight and hold onto our goals to no end; to never give up this fight and refuse any opposition or discouragement from others because they will only tear you down. I wonder though, how one clings to the wings of hope through the rain of doubt and negativity without succumbing and falling into the deep and everlasting pool of delusion.
so accurate in black households! Mine included!!!