The other day, whilst home alone, I randomly started to think about things and I suddenly realised that, to a certain extent, whilst I may not have entirely made all my dreams come true just yet, for the most part, I really am living the dream. Well, my dream to be more precise.
When I think back to all those times, that I dragged myself out of bed, in order to head to a job that, quite frankly, I'd begun to loathe and that was slowly but surely beginning to drain me of my spirit, I couldn't be more thankful to be free of that encasement today. Regardless of the current compromises. All those times when I stood there, day dreaming of telling everyone to go stick it where the sun don't shine and walk out in some grand act of defiance, only to actually in reality remain precisely where I was, a forced smile painted across my face, my passion for life seeping out, minute by minute. Soul gradually dying.
In all truth, I don't think about those times too often now. They seem so far away, that they could almost have occurred in another lifetime, but when I do catch my mind wandering in that direction, I take a moment to soak it all in and realise in great appreciation, that right here, right now, regardless of anything, my life is one big fuck you, to all the bullshit I left behind. A middle finger to all the bureaucracy, to all the hierarchy and to the systematic belittling of my hopes and dreams.
I eat cake to all the lunch breaks that were too short. I do yoga for all the holiday I wasn't allowed to take when I wanted. I sleep in and I stay up late, for all the Monday mornings I dreaded waking up to and I write, I write because I wish to express my appreciation for the life I now have the pleasure of living and to encourage others to one day do the same.
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