Future. Wasn’t it supposed to be an abstract idea? Something full of hopes and dreams and all the rosy promises. Having a dream was enough. Like, yeah, I’m going to be a writer with loads of money or own a magical chocolate factory with my personal little favourite people work-force and have a house with a room each for books, handicrafts, and all crazy stuff and an Olympic sized swimming pool
And then, when I need them the most, my dreams deserted me. All those crazy, possibly impossible dreams. Right when the time to work on them was there, I was on a boomerang ride. Neways no regrets.. Of the Endless Dreams I dreamt I did manage to meet a few. Right now when the future waits for me, in all its uncertain glory. It’s waiting I don't know taking me where and for what. So, what do I do now?
I write a stupid blog post about it. I laugh for no reason at all. I get mad at a person for pointing out the obvious mistakes I know I’m making, and I love that person for pointing it out anyways. I crib to everyone I know about how my life sucks and be glad that those people are in my life to listen to my crap. I listen to music and dance while thinking I then struggled to solve math problems and now life problems.
I work, and I work hard. I dream and I dream a little more. I hope and I give it all I’ve got.