I hate dreaming!
Although it is "supposed" to be an entertaining and nice activity, it brings about harsh consequences in the end. I know, because I have experienced enough of that.
Dreaming gives you a pair of wings. Wings that make you fly and take you as high as you desire. But, eventually, what is to follow is a sudden free fall, like an apple from a tree. However, the damage comes not only as bruising, as in the case of the apple, but also in dissappointment and depression as well.
That makes me remember the story of Ikaros, the son of the talented craftsman Daedalos. Daedalos, designs two pairs of wings made up of bird feathers attached with wax, both for himself and his son. Together they intend to fly and escape from Crete, where they were imprisoned. Before the journey, Daedalos reminds his son of the danger: he should not fly very high and get very close to the sun, since that melts the wax and the feathers could drift apart. His son promises to be careful. But, once he flew over the blue sea and glid in the bright sky, he wants to reach much higher. Unfortunately, as he rises in the sky, Ikaros's wings fall apart and he crashes right down to the Aeagean Sea and dies instantly.
That is not the same story, but it always reminds me of the case of dreaming. So tragic, and so real... Trying to reach a higher goal that is not possible, is something that's triggered by dreaming. I know I'm being too pessimistic about the whole case of dreaming. But, I would be lying if I say that I believe that "a person is nothing without his dreams" saying...
Maybe that's a phase that'll pass soon. But, for the time being I still hate dreaming!
Icarus & Daedalus
by Frederic Leighton, 1st Baron Leighton
ca 1869
