My dreams are so realistic that sometimes I can’t tell what has actually happened to me. I am addicted to coffee because I’m afraid to fall asleep. I’m worried that someday I might get stuck in my dreams. What’s worse, is sometimes I hope I don’t wake up.
I have been everywhere, but I can’t find a home for myself. I know that family and my heart is where home is, but I want my own home where I’m happy at and with what I have in my life. I broke off a couple of engagements and ran away to where nobody knew me. Still, I can’t find it. Some say that’s because I’m coming from a broken home but that isn’t it. It is that because I see people are willing to chase their dreams but the question is how do they find them without the future telling us?
Everybody is someone. I’m a big hypocrite.
I try real hard to be a good person. Hopefully that makes a difference. If I had guts, I think I would be a lot of things. But some of them are not so good things to be. So, maybe I’ll just stay a scared-y cat with an inferiority complex. I spend a lot of my time wishing I were something else. One of them is an intellectual, another is a dinosaur. I should enjoy who I am, but most of the time, I’m too concerned about what I wish was happening that I displace myself from my own reality. Maybe it’s good for my imagination.
I used to wish I were dead a lot. But sometimes I’m so happy I’m alive that I cry.
I’ve realized over the past year that I want to be a mom. I have never wanted this before. I grew up saying that I was going to be a powerful, influential, single woman. I was going to change the world through my money and position. But something was missing.
Then it came to me one day, where do you find the most happiness? In families.
I was tickling my nephew and laughing with him when I got a glimpse of what I might feel if I were to ever have children. It was such an overwhelming feeling, it filled my chest and shot out through my fingertips. I didn’t want to let him go.
There is something divine about motherhood that I think the world is forgetting. Something in motherhood that fulfills a woman that nothing else can. There is something about a husband and a wife coming together to make a family that is beautiful and whole.
So is it silly of me to be dreaming of getting married to someone I choose to love and having children while the rest of the woman in the world are striving to rule the world?
I feel like I’ve spent most of my life playing it safe. Everything’s been calculated—there are just no more surprises. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I just ditched my routine and did something spontaneous, I don’t know followed a dream for a change. But as soon as I think about it I realize that nothing will change. I will continue this monotonous life because I am too scared of what else could be out there.
When I was a kid, I had dreams or something like that, where as I was sleeping in my bed, puppets would come up from under my bed and tickle me. I say it was a dream, but I’m still very convinced (25 year later) that the puppets were really there. Even to this day I will not sleep without at least a sheet. The idea of being vulnerable to small puppets freaks me out.
I am 22 years old still a virgin and waiting for the love of my life.
I just want to live a influential life, share my passions with my wife, share my perspective with others through my photography and travel and listen and show others love through out the world, by connecting with them in the most random of ways.
This is my dream for life.
I am left with what feels like the dying embers of what was a very good relationship. I want to marry this boy so badly that I even dream about it. Oddly specific, don’t you think? But over the course of four years he has sown enough doubt into his true intentions for me to say, now, that he really wants to be with me. After four years, “I don’t know” is the same as “no,” right?
When I was younger I wanted to be a singer. As the years went by I became convinced that I wasn’t pretty enough to be one. People just mindlessly say and do things without thinking about others. Its upsetting and my self esteem is still in shambles. It has only been recently that I’ve been able to see the good in my body. I find that it helps to look at yourself as if your not you. As vague as that may be it works.
I now want to be an actress. I’ve been told that I’m pretty good. It makes makes me happy to think that other people derive some sort of enjoyment out of something I’ve done. My looks still worry me. I’m afraid they might stunt my ability to act in plays and movies but I’m still going to try. Its no use worrying about something if you can’t change it. You can only try and hope that with copious amounts of begging and bugging they’ll look at you for talent.
I still kinda want to be a singer.
Sometimes I have amazing dreams. Then I wake up missing things I never had.