Someone I knew once said: “The richest people on Earth are in the cemeteries. They died with their dreams still inside them.”
I had a lot of dreams when I was 23. Some of them came to be; my children are the realization of one of my dreams.
But there are other dreams that seem to disappear further down the tunnel to Neverland with every year that goes by. And by now I discover I’m quite alone – not only alone with my dreams, but I can’t even share them anymore without people jumping down my throat for wanting to rattle the status quo.
When did I become other people’s comfort zone? And is there no way out??