The lifeblood of imagination.
I like to ask myself the questions “What if?”, “Why?”, and “Why not?”.
I like to think about things, what makes things what they are, life, love, death, shadows, light, basic forces of nature.
I think about everything I can think of.
Even if I seem to, I don’t take anything at face value.
The deep REM sleep dreams and nightmares –
– creations bubbling up from my subconscious.
The wide awake day-dreams –
– the thoughts I can’t get rid of, that keep coming back to me.
Dreams of changing the world, dreams of a better life, dreams of simply doing what I love and sharing it with those who will appreciate it.
Sometimes, it’s all one has, the only reason to bother to keep breathing. Hopes are often inspired by dreams.
Hope is primal, fundamental. Hope inspires heart, mind, and soul.
Hope inspires action, it’s why I often open my notebook and pull out my pen, even though I don’t know what I will be writing.
What do I want out of life?
What do I want to avoid?
Hopes help define ones’ wishes, but wishes are more specific for me. Something I desire, something I long for.
Something thought about when I’m lying in bed, waiting for sleep to take over, something I dream about after it does.
The good old days.
The experiences that helped make me who I am today, and the ones that will help make me who I will be tomorrow.
Mistakes that I (hopefully) learn from,
stories that make me laugh,
cherished moments I keep close to my heart.
Sometimes all three at once.