A million dreams sound beautiful,
But have you ever had a million thoughts
racing through your mind at the same time?
Because it’s actually a fucking disaster.
Forget about dreaming about
the world we’re gonna make.
I just wonder about this bed I’m supposed to make
and how the idea is just entirely overwhelming
in the grand scheme of things
when I can’t even get out of it
because I’ve already thought of 8 different ways
I’m going to end up in prison
for not wiping the germs off
of a damn toy car often enough.
and that’s just the last minute.
So trust me:
A million of something is keeping me awake
but I don’t think they’re dreams.
If the main goal of living
is to follow your dreams,
then why am I still here?
My dreams will never come true
and hanging around is really
only torturing myself by thinking
about the what-ifs when
there was never even a what.
It is dangerous to dream
bigger than the moment
you are already living.
It may be easy to dream
of long white curtains
billowing in a warm breeze
or a four-poster bed with
soft pink petals scattered
across bright, white sheets
that are as fresh and as pure as you;
maybe later you’ll be tangled in them
as you watch the sunset
over the ocean out your window
with the love of your life
shortly after you dedicated
your lives to be spent with each other.
Seems simple enough of a dream,
But that can be ripped from you
long before you ever get close
to touching that dream.
So dream simply of small things
like your first margarita
because the odds of someone
shoving that down your throat
against your will
is a lot less likely than other things…
take it from me.
What is life but a huge disappointment?
You make dreams that don’t come true
which fills you with resentment.
Even you begin to hate you
for not being able to follow your dreams.
I wish that fairytales were real
because that would mean that
dreams really do come true
just because you will them too
and patiently wait for them to happen
and everyone gets a happy ending,
But that’s just not the case.
Love is a sham
and the more you believe in it,
the more you’ll get hurt.
then again, if you don’t believe in love,
the world reveals it’s cold self,
and it’s miserable living there,
but so is living in a constant state
where you believe that any day now
you’re fairytale will come true
and your prince will finally love you.
Go ahead and pick you poison:
reality or an apple.
Dreams. Dreams? Dreams.
They make us who we are.
They are what makes us into
While others may have
similiar goals and hopes,
its the fine details
like a porch swing
or a two syllable name
that make dreams…different;
that make us…different.
The thing about dreams
is that dreams change.
They come and go.
They adapt to other dreams
from other people
whose dreams become yours.
But what do you do
when all your dreams
have long ago faded
and the little details
become forgotten memories?
How do you know that your dream
is actually your dream
and not just what someone else wants?