One begins to dream from the very moment the egg cracks.
A little hatchling, with nothing of its own except dreams.
Dreams to change everything. To make a difference. To want it all.
But dreams...are foolish. Almost naive. Simplistic. And at most times innocent, even.
For, reality seldom resembles dreams.
It is harsh. Cruel. And cunning.
Nothing like the dreams we easily brewed. Bred. And decided to live. Venturing into reality, that first time.
They gave us courage. To stand for something. To believe in a purpose. To achieve that goal.
But a house of cards, no matter how big, takes an instant to dissolve at a whisper of the draught.
The draught of reality.
We must all wade into the big pond, we know, to emerge into the land of no retreat. No hiding.
To allow reality, a bite at us.
Us. Little fish.
With big dreams.
Eager. Excited. Almost impatient to grow big. And visit the big pond.
The big pond.
The cold and dark world.
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