Dreams...?🪽
Dreams are one of the strangest things. They show up when you least expect them. Some dreams feel small, like a passing thought, and some feel so huge and real that waking up from them feels sad. Sometimes I wonder if dreams are even meant to come true or if they are just little sparks that keep us alive in the middle of this dull routine we call life. I have always carried dreams with me, like dust in my pocket. Some I have forgotten about, some I have let go of, and some still sit there waiting for their turn.
When I was younger I dreamed of becoming a pilot. Flying above the clouds felt like the purest kind of freedom. I still remember looking up at the sky and thinking maybe one day that could be me. But I never chased it. Life moved, and I moved with it, and that dream stayed behind like a stone in a river(I'm the water here!).
Then there is my love for driving. I cannot explain it properly, but holding the steering wheel of a car makes me feel more alive than anything else. Just me, the road, some good music, and that feeling of movement. If I could, I would happily spend my life just driving through cities and highways. But of course, I cannot just quit everything and become a driver. People would call it wasting potential, and maybe even I would feel guilty after a point. Still, the dream stays.
Lately I have even caught myself thinking of becoming a writer who directs too, uhm a film director maybe? It sounds ridiculous, right. And yet, I cannot deny that the thought excites me. It feels like a dream my heart secretly planted inside me when I wasn’t paying attention.
What I have learned about dreams is that they are not always about careers or achievements. Sometimes they are just about moments. I dream of living in a quiet town where I can wake up slowly, make a cup of hot chocolate, and write without rushing anywhere. I dream of traveling on trains, meeting people I will never see again, listening to their stories while the countryside passes by outside the window. I dream of laughter in a home that feels completely mine. I dream of peace.
The tricky part is reality. Money, responsibilities, expectations. They pull me back every time I try to imagine walking away from this rat race. I cannot just pack a bag and leave everything behind, even though the thought feels so tempting on some days. So my dreams sit with me like secret companions. They remind me that even if my present feels empty, there is still a part of me that refuses to give up.
Sometimes I think dreams are less about reaching them and more about keeping them alive. Maybe I will never be a pilot, but the dream still gives me the strength to look up at the sky. Maybe I will never spend my whole life driving, but the dream still makes me take long drives on weekends. Maybe I will never become a director, but even thinking about it gives me energy in the middle of boring days to write such a blog.
Dreams are like that. They are not always promises. Sometimes they are just reminders that we are more than our routines. That deep inside we still carry sparks waiting for a chance to burn. And maybe that is enough.
The sky I never touched still weighs heavier than the ground I walk