We all know those nights. The sleepless ones where the tick-tock of the clock sounds more like a battle drum. When the world dozes, I hustle. The glaring screen, the scribbled notes, the constant whirl of ideas – it’s a nocturnal symphony of ambition. It’s as if the universe has conspired to give me more hours just to chase after that glimmering dream.
Weekends? Oh, they've transformed. From lazy brunches and binge-watching shows to being days of restless productivity. While most sigh in relief welcoming weekends, I see them as two more chances to get ahead, to be closer to what I've envisioned. Every Saturday sunrise is another beginning, every Sunday sunset a notch closer to my goal.
And let's not even talk about the countless speed bumps and detours. The naysayers act as if they've memorized a script - "Why don’t you take it easy?" or "Is it even worth it?" Their doubts sometimes echo in the back of my mind, testing my resolve.
But then, I remember.
I have a dream. Not the whimsical daydreams of childhood or the fleeting ambitions of teenage years. This is the dream that has been crafted meticulously, nurtured daily, and is held close to the heart. It’s that vivid picture I see every morning upon waking up and the last thought that accompanies me to bed. It's the lighthouse guiding me through turbulent seas, the North Star on my darkest nights.
So, I will keep going. With scraped knees and tired eyes, if I must. Because the essence of this journey isn’t about the hardships, but the realization of that dream. When I finally get there, and I will, the view will be unparalleled, the satisfaction immense.
It's going to be a marathon, not a sprint. Every drop of sweat, every sacrificed comfort, every ounce of effort – they're all tickets to that grand finale. And when I reach that pinnacle, looking back at the winding road, I’ll know with unwavering certainty: It was all worth it. Because dreams, no matter how distant, are the soul's way of showing what's possible.
0 Comments