The 3 Classical Symptoms Of Killing Our Dreams
The first symptom of the process of our killing our dreams is the lack of time. The busiest people I have known in my life always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are required to do. They complain constantly that the day is too short. The truth is, they are afraid to fight the Good Fight.
The second symptom of the death of our dreams lies in our certainties. Because we don’t want to see life as a grand adventure, we begin to think of ourselves as wise and fair and correct in asking so little of life. We look beyond the walls of our day-to-day existence, and we hear the sound of lances breaking, we smell the dust and the sweat, and we see the great defeats and the fire in the eyes of the warriors. But we never see the delight, the immense delight in the hearts of those who are engaged in the battle. For them, neither victory nor defeat is important; what’s important is only that they are fighting the Good Fight.
And, finally, the third symptom of the passing of our dreams is peace. Life becomes a Sunday afternoon; we ask for nothing grand, and we cease to demand anything more than we are willing to give. In that state, we think of ourselves as being mature; we put aside the fantasies of our youth, and we seek personal and professional achievement. We are surprised when people our age say that they still want this or that out of life. But really, deep in our hearts, we know that what has happened is that we have renounced the battle for our dreams – we have refused to fight the Good Fight.
When we renounce our dreams and find peace, we go through a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and to infect our entire being.
We become cruel to those around us, and then we begin to direct this cruelty against ourselves. That’s when illnesses and psychoses arise. What we sought to avoid in combat – disappointment and defeat – come upon us because of our cowardice.
And one day, the dead, spoiled dreams make it difficult to breathe, and we actually seek death. It’s death that frees us from our certainties, from our work, and from that terrible peace of our Sunday afternoonsBy Paulo Coelho
This playlist goes out to all the folks out there who had a long week and just want to unwind on the bed with some good tunes and a fine brew. Feel free to add some songs in the comment section if you want to contribute
Flight Facilities – Crave You (Adventure Club Dubstep Remix)
The Weeknd – High For This
It’s six o’clock in the morning and my head is fuked.
Didn’t realize I’d gone to sleep.
I wake up, disoriented, on the couch.
For a minute or two, I don’t know where I am.
My lounge is an alien.
Memories flood back into my head like a blocked toilet.
Yesterday is incomplete.
I remember hanging out with a girl, 10 years younger than me.
A girl I’ve always loved.
I remember telling her to show me her tits.
She was too shy.
If I persisted, she would have.
But I’m a nice guy.
I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
So we talked.
Now, I love her more than ever.
Withdrawing from meth.
I wrap the thin blue blanket around myself and try to sleep, but it’s no use.
I say, “Fuk,” at the top of my voice.
Not hungover enough to vomit.
It was another day in the office and Jeff was sitting in his desk chair, staring at the lifeless, gray walls which defined“his” space. Jeff hated his job and was generally frustrated with life because he was a slacker and he knew it.
There was the time that he wanted to run a marathon. He bought a new pair of running shoes and a running book, but only showed up to run for a couple of weeks before quitting.
There was the time he wanted to build his own website. He read all about it for months and researched everything. He even put up his own site, but after a couple of weeks, he quit when nobody visited the site.
There was a similar pattern. Jeff would get excited about something and get off to a quick start, but when he didn’t see results, he quickly became discouraged and gave up. After giving up, he would fall back into old habits and life was the same for Jeff day in and day out, year in and year out. And now here he was, bored and frustrated.
It was on this day that Jeff was sent back in time.
He couldn’t tell what had happened, but out of nowhere he found himself in the middle of an ancient construction site. He looked all around trying to get his bearings when he saw it: the Roman Colosseum being built before his very eyes. He thought to himself, “What the hell is going on here?”
Jeff explored the construction site in amazement and came across a man who appeared to be a stonecutter. He was about Jeff’s size with a large hammer, standing next to an even larger rock. As Jeff passed the man, with one great blow, the stonecutter split the giant rock in two.
Jeff thought to himself, “Wow, what a man! I can’t believe he cut that rock with one hit!”
Walked in on my roommate polishing the skin flute
My girlfriends reaction to 3am snoring