the days follow each other like ants towards a dead thing and after enough of them pass by, you finally realize you are that dead thing And that's supposed to be alright. After all, no one is excused from this All we can do is make the journey pleasant However, when the alarm wakes you up at 6:30 in the morning, announcing that there's yet another day in which you'll have to attend your duties of slaving away for others to get rich, when you're slipping into the other half of your life not bringing along any fulfilled dreams despite trying again and again... Another day in which you'll be assaulted by questions like, "Hey, so when are you going to get married?" "Have you even someone to marry?" "Why don't you get another job. Aren't you a bit too old for this one?" "How much do they pay you?"…
everywhere you go it's the same all the big shots, the people who made it, athletes, entrepreneurs, artists, and so on they all tell you to dream big, to set high goals and then trust the infinite intelligence of the universe while you just do your part of the work he thought he was surely not the only one who tired of it but he applied the methods "When I was young and poor," said one of the big shots on TV, "I used to walk into the most expensive stores in the city and I would try out the most expensive clothes. I would take them into the fitting rooms and put them on and just look at myself in the big mirror, trying to capture that feeling of already having what I desired. Trying to see myself actually owning those fancy things." It was excellent advice He followed…
they told him that the hospital's windows were barred not to prevent them from going out, but to prevent others from getting in He had to believe them. Had to believe everything he was told here and do as he was told and he was so far successful It was a peaceful life but as he kept living it he realized that, in itself, that was the problem There was another patient in the room with him who constantly woke up crying and begging for forgiveness he made the crying sounds of a dog in great pain and when the staff came to calm him and inject him with another dose of drugs he cowered into a corner and began whispering to himself about the days of youth when he hit a dog in the head with the edge of a shovel, just as it was feeding its puppies with…
Daydreaming as a profession 