And so, another dream dies and you plummet to earth, down from the euphoria and glee that thoughts and aspirations took you to. You reached the stratosphere with the wings of insects, holding promise that one day they would spread into those of a mighty albatross. Your heart soared with joy as you passed through the clouds, looking down on all who you may tower over someday.
The clouds come and go, but with your nose firmly planted at the grindstone, you’ll never know it. In time, you’ll forget that there’s more to life outside the never changing view of consistency, that the anchor of familiarity keeps you grounded and that freedom is a sucker’s bet. Up there, where only dreams and hopes keep you afloat, it’s a long, long way down.
No, dreams are not safe things in the slightest. They are frivolous and pointless endeavors, undertaken by the weak willed. Stay here. It’s safe here. Here, when a dream crashes down, you only need step left or right to avoid the catastrophe.
Heed our words: We’ve learned the hard way. We are the dreamers who’ve moved on; bitter, empty shells of what we were, what we could have been. It may be said that we simply gave up on ourselves, and took the safe way, and no words could be truer. That is exactly what we did, and what we will say until our deaths. We scream to the highest highs, so that the most distant dreamer can hear our cries: “Give up, O’ Dreamer, Oh future casualty of the crushing weight of self-awareness and responsibility! Give no passing thought to what could be, what may be! Stay grounded to what is; what needs to be!”
You will be better off for it, we promise you.
-The Dreamers of Long Ago.