Dreams are one of the best tools we have to understanding ourselves. The nightmares outlay our fears and the regular ol' "happy" dreams set our hopes in front of us to have another gander at. The holes in the fabric of our dreams are filled in with what our waking minds have concerned themselves with...

The times that worry me are the times where my hopes have made their way into my nightmares.. where somehow they've been twisted around into being something bad.

Ironically, these hopes are the ones I cling to most tightly, the ones I entertain daydreams for, or deep philosophical thought, or had the greatest desire to just wish them into existence.

The hopes I hold most dear are the ones that hurt the most to lose.

I don't know why I'm waxing philosophical on this.. I've just sorta come to the conclusion that hopes are very sharp objects. It hurts to hold onto hopes that haven't led to something more concrete yet. And my dreams are ever-so-busy rubbing it in my face.

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