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Dreams - keep 'em to yourself
Singing Agathe
I have allowed myself to get excited about several different possibilities over the last few months. Nothing wrong with that. Except I made the foolish mistake of telling people about these excitements. I know this invites fate to come and screw with my hopes and dreams, which it most certainly has done. Bam, smash, pow, good-bye to what I was hoping for. Disappointment shared is always more bitter to me, and so better that I had not mentioned anything at all. Excuse my pessimism for a moment, but I would rather expect everything to fail and be happily disproven than to constantly share my dreams and have them smashed.

Of course, then I get to thinking about the power of attention, and how it's probably all a matter of perspective. I only think that sharing my excitements leads to disappointment because those are the instances I remember, sort and store away for later. There are probably many dreams I have shared that have come true, and I don't pull them into the equation, because why focus on the good things? That would be downright healthy.

And then, I get to thinking about how I can't even enjoy a good pout any more, because my brain keeps spinning its wheels and telling me there's no reason to be angry. Things aren't going to change because I'm upset, and even if they did, would that be a good thing? So I'm left feeling COMPLETELY unfulfilled, holding this hollow charm of being 'mature' and 'accepting'.

So tonight I'll just cry. And it won't mean anything except I don't let myself cry. And then I'll pick myself up and dream some more, and probably try harder to keep it a secret.