Growing up is highly intriguing experience. Hopes and optimism are the order of the day. Remember the days you used to say ‘when I grow up I want to be this and this?’. The underdeveloped mind always views the world in the easy angle. I remember promising myself something to do with electrical electronics just because I liked messing with any gadget which was available in the house at that time. I was always rewarded with strokes on my back, always.
In school things start growing tough and pessimism creeps in slowly and sure, before you know it you are that jerk who hides in the library during class time perusing comics and chewing gum. It is the start of the end. Dreams you had fly away like wisps of smoke, never to be seen again. Others have it a little bit easy, you fare well in the subjects but you still end up in the seemingly wrong direction.
You leave school holding tightly on the dreams but somehow the begin to die. Of late I have been treading on boulevard of broken dreams. Dreams I had seem so far away and unreachable that sometimes I wonder if I was the one dreaming. They crash in front of my eyes and sad part is that I can do nothing about it.
I still want to hold on to my dreams, I still want to dream again. I am afraid that dreaming again may become just that, a dream.
p.s I have been trying to write a post about this creepy Tuesday which I met a former classmate and he tried to introduce me to some crazy kinda masonic practices, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I will soon write it