Our dreams drag us away from the present, hope the prerequisite of despair. Ideas of life are life rafts to keep us sinking into the dark depths of reality. But at some point, we have to learn to swim.
My dreams are getting slighter, my floaties are slowly deflating. Sometimes I let too much air out, I thrash and struggle for air. I hope to one day let go of hope, and wade in these waters without illusion.