When you’re young, under the age of 12, you’re trained to begin thinking about what you want to do for the rest of your life.
Not the rest of your life, but whoever controls your name badge and bi-monthly salary like a master you hate but need.
When you’re a child, you want to be a movie star, a Viking, a big red dog. Two of these aren’t possible, and one isn’t likely.
Kids are full of hope and believe anything is possible. Until the biggest bully of them all, the workforce delivers repetition after repetition of human resources, and rejection letters like a bully punching his will into your soft, young, face.
We think like this as kids because no one has told us we can’t have hope yet. No one has stolen our light.
No child dreams of being a life insurance salesperson.
Children don’t play pretend public accountant; they act out their dreams in total purity.
Not sure what to do with your life? Look at your childhood before society demanded you wear a hundred masks like a cabaret of lost dreams.
We never lose the idea of our childhood hopes and dreams. Even our adult goals too.
Slowly over time, the world steals your hope. That beautiful word that gave you the courage to dream about being a fashion designer in the first place.
World war against you is here. We’re all oppressed, no one, not even our peers, want us to achieve our dreams.
If one person in your circle makes the big time, it reminds us if we work hard we can too.
When you’ve given up hope long ago, the worst thing in your life becomes reminders of hope.
Hope reminds us of how much love, life, and passion we’ve wasted meddling around in Microsoft Excel.
Until all hope is gone and you settle into your corporate existence watching television with writing so poor, it barely passes 3rd-grade level prose.
Keep your little moments of hope. Realize when someone tells you that you aren’t capable, can’t do it, or that your dream is impossible, understand they are right.
But they aren’t talking about you.
They’re talking about themselves.