At what point do we decide to kill our dreams? With the loss of our youth comes the realization that the heights dreamt of may not be reached. Which one of those is the cause, I wonder? I wanted the world and was told I could have it because I was me.
I look around at the world I do have; the cell that I work in. Activists sue governments for the rights of prisoners to live in larger spaces than this. I know why I'm here. $. I couldn't take the badgering, the pressure.
Become one of us, give your dreams to those who can afford to dream. Earn your place here and shackle yourself.
Indifference doesn't kill, comfort does. It's so comfortable to have food and money when you need it. To live somewhere nice and drive to work is good. Why would you want to throw that away for no pay and less free time?
Because I still dream.