In the midst of windy air, at the cambridge of the playground. A dream weaver from a greek mythology was sitting alone. Lost in her own dream as her tears from failures and disappointment keep flowing on her hazelnut brown eyes, in making a sad doodle of her broken dreams. Wherein she pour all of her emotions, in believing that failures may come but an attitude to keep moving on, to believe and trying to improve is thoroughly achieved by dreams.
She was born with a silver spoon on her platter. She can easily get what she want in just blink of an eye. She was like a princess living in a fairy tale. Almost perfect but she felt something lacking– the warm love and great support of her family. She never enjoy her childhood where in she can play with other kids and to live care free because at the young age she was busy filling up the pressure and expectations of her parents to be an achiever who would always bring home the bacon and excel among her peers.
As she takes into adulthood. She got lost in the process of it where she is more exposed to reality. It’s where she realize that the dreams she doodled on a piece of paper at the back of her worn out notebook, the book she want to create, reality pull off these down. Until she have devalue these dreams she use to have a tight grip on for the sake of practicality. She often felt she was living to her parents idea of what she should be, and she started to doubt if that was what she really wanted to be. But she let them dictates her on the life she must live and dream she must pursue, until she lost herself in the darkness where uncertainty and longing continued.
She continue to live and walk to an endless road of her life, but she never stop on pursuing the dream she really wanted. The art of writing. She write to breathe, to be free from her thoughts before it can destroy her. The way she write is how she see the world. It is hunger for something or the constant search for it whether it’s love, freedom, dream or happiness. The thing about this, it brings back to who she is. She dream, write and do art to remind herself the emotions that reality has taken away from her. Her dreams taught her to be herself on a world where she constantly shape into someone else. And she choose to keep this dream to survive in a reality like this and to keep her sane.
I open my laptop and sipped into my coffee as I typed the last paragraph of my own story. Three years ago, I was a dreamer who lost in pursuing the dreams I have on a rough road without knowing where it can take me. But this is reality, nothing comes easy. There’s no shortcut to our dreams in life. We stumble and fall but we stand up strong and brave in facing these obstacles in life to keep moving further and to be a better version of us. As I typed the last few words of my story whatever scar this journey imprinted on me, I’m now healed because those people taught me to fight for something I believe in and to work hard to live the life I dream. Things may not be easy but to dream is worth fighting if we are brave enough.