i suppose i'm finally getting a clear idea of who and what i truly want in my life. my choices are growing smaller day by day. i don't feel that it's intentional. maybe only natural selection, or bluntly, realism. and i cannot stand the word realism. i believe realism is what people feel they're obligated to adapt to. i believe realism is an excuse that people make when they're too afraid to dream anymore. otherwise, i do believe that being realistic is completely necessary, because one cannot simply dream of crossing the streets of new york blindfolded without being struck by a car. i've just become more accepting with being told that i dream too often, and have too much heart. i tell myself that that's perfectly fine, because mostly the person telling me that never dreams at all, and has too little heart. i suppose it can make me naive, or make me vulnerable to hurt and rejection, but i've never thought it wasn't worth it. i cannot believe the actions of some because i can't fathom doing anything at all without considering the feelings of another.

no, the world cannot be made up entirely of dreamers. our structures would fail, and we would form no concrete plans without a realist to suddenly bring us back down to earth, but the world does need more of us. i would much rather encounter a dreamer who knew theycould surely be mistaken, instead of a realist who is too blind to see they're wrong.