“Did you ever have a job that you hated and worked real hard at? A long, hard day of work. Finally you get to go home, get in bed, close your eyes and immediately you wake up and realize… that the whole day at work had been a dream. It’s bad enough that you sell your waking life for minimum wage, but now they get your dreams for free.”
Two nights in a row this has happened to me. What’s the point when the difference between eyes open and eyes closed is indistinguishable?
I am sick of working in my dreams.
I am sick of dreaming of living on the leather couch in the fluorescent humming lunch room.
I am sick of potential.
I ache for the apex.
I rail against the trough.
This is enough.
“Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without victory there is no survival.” – Winston Churchill