Can you imagine a kid, a teenager living without dreams?
I can't.
As long as I remember myself, I had always been dreaming.
I dreamed about my future life, full of nice people adventures and beautiful women.
I dreamed about my career, when I am a big boss who can afford to eat in good restaurants and wear expensive clothes.
I dreamed of punishing my offenders because one day I was surely going to be big and strong man.
Then I dreamed about a woman I will love all my life with all my heart.
And so on and so on.
I remember the best time for dreaming was when I went to bed and could forget about problems with parents and at school (there were some)
There was the time of dreaming.
We lived in a big room where I didn't have anything children have in families.
I didn't have a table for doing my home work; I didn't have anything where I a teenager could hide something belonged to me.
Time past. I lost all my dreams. All that I had been created so carefully before entering the world of big boys, faded away in the world of realities.
Dissatisfaction, disappointment, sadness and even depression at times, replaced most of my childish dreams.
It all went on till the day when I suddenly realized that I became an obedient tool of daily routine, performing a set of simple operations, that could bring me minimum of moral and financial support.
I can't remember how it came into being, but one day, about a half a year ago, I suddenly looked into the mirror at my fat body, wrinkled face and asked myself:
I can't.
As long as I remember myself, I had always been dreaming.
I dreamed about my future life, full of nice people adventures and beautiful women.
I dreamed about my career, when I am a big boss who can afford to eat in good restaurants and wear expensive clothes.
I dreamed of punishing my offenders because one day I was surely going to be big and strong man.
Then I dreamed about a woman I will love all my life with all my heart.
And so on and so on.
I remember the best time for dreaming was when I went to bed and could forget about problems with parents and at school (there were some)
There was the time of dreaming.
We lived in a big room where I didn't have anything children have in families.
I didn't have a table for doing my home work; I didn't have anything where I a teenager could hide something belonged to me.
Time past. I lost all my dreams. All that I had been created so carefully before entering the world of big boys, faded away in the world of realities.
Dissatisfaction, disappointment, sadness and even depression at times, replaced most of my childish dreams.
It all went on till the day when I suddenly realized that I became an obedient tool of daily routine, performing a set of simple operations, that could bring me minimum of moral and financial support.
I can't remember how it came into being, but one day, about a half a year ago, I suddenly looked into the mirror at my fat body, wrinkled face and asked myself:
- "Is that really something you had been dreaming of?"
- "Is that what you had been trying to get from life?"
- "Is that the flat you are going to meet your last days?"
- "Is that the attire you are going to wear in the years to come?"
"No" was the only answer to all of these and other questions I was asking.
I went to my desk, turned on the computer and tried to figure out what I could do to change this flow of every day deeds that were so different from what I really had been passionate about long, long time ago.
I realized then that the problem was in my inability to dream and to keep an eye on my dream, just to see where to go.
The next days were extremely important for me. I felt I was ready to make a serious step in changing my life…
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