having dreams is maybe the worst sin in the world. no, not in the world, in MY world.

i always thought that i'm following my dreams. i chase upon them, and i want to reach them.

i'm dying for my dreams. dying to reach them. to want to have them. to keep them real.

well, maybe i was wrong. all the time, i was wrong.

maybe i'm not supposed to have dreams. maybe i'm supposed to just sit tight and enjoy the ride, wherever it takes me.

maybe this is just a bad dream. a bad dream i chose instead of a bleeding reality that bond me to earth and never let go.

i would like to fly. i would like to taste clouds and sunshine and breathe in the atmosphere.

but i don't have wings, how can i even think to taste them?

why can't i just walk? or run. or fall.

this dream is falling apart. and even if i push it hard, i can't no longer hold it.