Has this idea of dreaming of another life cost me living in and appreciating the real moments that are actually my real life? Has the idea of “becoming everything I ever dreamed” actually disillusioned me to how life really works? Dreaming is a privilege, and comes at a cost. What a terrifying thought to think that my whole life I have been chasing something that was sold to me. A counterfeit promise telling me that if only I had this or became that I would be happy. When you live in that you treat things and people as inconsequential because you’re always wanting to be on the next biggest thing.
Have I missed out on my own life by always wanting another?