And the dreams .... Where are they?
Where is the dream of the man who dreamed of publishing his writings? That one student being cautious kept saying what their hands waiting for that someday, somewhere, someone would publish it?
Where is the dream of that other man who dreamed of traveling the world by train? That it over and over again postponed his great journey for a better opportunity?
Where is the dream that there, the man who dreamed of finding another man who truly loved? That time and again that hides among many empty appointments with the only companion of loneliness?
And that? Where is that dream? The women who dreamed of creating, to paint and exhibit his paintings so that everyone could admire ... where was that?
And that one? Where was the dream of man who looks behind the scenes? This not only observes and talks, which was the dream of flying helicopters?
Where were so many dreams that made us sleep with a smile at the thought? Still here, playing hide joke into believing that they are gone then suddenly appear, come from behind and we cherish the shoulder, whisper in his ear that do not leave, they want to be made, but we strive to leave in this smokescreen because we prefer to think that it is too late.
not stop chasing them, they are the engine of our lives. Never too late, now is the time ... ..
"Years wrinkle the skin but loss of enthusiasm wrinkles the soul" Albert Schweitzer
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