When I was a child, I dreamt of writing. When I was left companionless, the pages of my notebook were there to hear me out. So the image of me writing and writing and writing was the ultimate achievement. I dreamt of writing in a foreign language, even.

When I was a child, I did not dream of going into space or excavating dinosaur bones or rescuing patients in the hospital. When I was a child, I did dream. I dreamt and dreamt. And it was all of me writing.

I have a dream. Yes, just like you. I've always had the same one, just like you. It's me writing.

I am sorry for pursuing my passion at your expense. I am sorry I didn't think this through. I am sorry I might be wasting your precious money. I am sorry for not being like you.

♥ 8:09 AM