Some days, I believe that being a dreamer will be my undoing. I put much of myself into “what if’s” and “could I ever’s” that never come to pass, or that do come to pass without any real result or consequence. Then I carry it—-the sorrow, the disappointment, the feelings of failure and frustration. Seems there was a time in life when the doing of a thing in and of itself was enough to satisfy me, but I wonder if those days are gone. I wonder if I should stop dreaming.
I simply don’t know.
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