Maybe dreams are there for a reason.
The fantasy is always so much better than the reality.
It has no flaws, no interruptions, no responsibilty.. And people always say exactly what you wish them too, need them to.
These should stay in the slumber and ideals that create them.
My life is not perfect and, nor am I.
I could be thinner, prettier, smarter, more cultured and understanding.
My world could be smoother, happier, and the dreams I have could blossom without any enforcement from me.
But though the road of reality may be rocky and uncertain
It allows you the freedom to shout, scream, cry. To rip princes charmings mask off and tell him you shouldn't have to lose a fucking slipper before he seeks your heart.
To live moment to moment at the unexpected things that come your way, and to laugh and disaster instead of wallow.
True, reality makes me weaker every day, but I grow stronger in the fact that the path that I'm paving is my own. Built on solid concrete and bitter truths, not paved into a world of clouds.
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