I find myself thinking, Should i follow my heart as a true
fantasist, or should i follow my brains as a true realist? so what am
I? an idealist, fantasist, or a realist? why did realism became the same word as cynicism? i wish someone or something will light my path, a sign, an opportunity, some sord of omen to help me pick. in my case two roads are diverged in yellow wood, the road of realism and the road of idealism, should i take the road less traveled by? will it make a difference? that road will lead me to a tougher life... however who said life should be easy? maybe for once i need not to take the easier way out, maybe i need to believe, believe in me. however is it not the easiest way out as well? in our times, when the fairy tails of heroism and just causes are reduced to just to their fairy tales status how will little old me make the difference? is wishing for heroism childish? so many questions, questions of path, questions of moral, questions of identity, and yet, i come with no single clear answer. i think the answer is the one i fear so much, that i should go out and find the just purpose, the ideal, and never let go of it. this is not the life i always pictured to myself, but it sounds so right, and maybe, just maybe my empathy can make a difference? maybe not a global difference but a difference somewhere.
I don't know why this post is written in English, it just felt as if it was the right thing to do. I must let go of one of my dreams. the dream of grandeur, cause i guess somethings should come first, way before grandeur, and this is one of them. so i guess it's fair well to my old self and hello to my new self.
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