12:30 in the morning. Doubt circles my mind. It’s frighting in there. The red eyes and sharp teeth, the terror, the monster… My nightmares.
We get lost on the road to what we want. We sometimes stop writing, we stop picking up the camera, we stop dreaming. The road become the only path that you cannot recognize… But it’s the only path available. It’s firery surface is emitting a heat so strong that you tell yourself “this is hell”.
The dreamer fights, he/she does not only dream. He/she must fight with everything they have. Through sweat, through blood, through sacrifice… That’s what we’re told. It’s what we’re taught. You sacrifice everything, you get everything. Fuck that. I no longer believe in such actions. I no longer believe that for my dream to be possible, I must pay in blood. What’s the point of a dream if in the end I cannot even enjoy the victory dance?
I stand up for my art. I defend it, I change it, I learn from it and I continue to the next piece. In a world of darkness a spark of light makes the difference. While the world puts me down, my dream carries me through. Its the source of why I do what I do. It’s the reason why I’m confident enough to press the record button. It’s the reason why I am a storyteller. My dream brings me forward. It does not beat me down. It will not destroy me. It will only inspire me to change this world. The world of darkness. Until tomorrow.