I’ve always been a dreamer. Ever since I can remember. I used to stay up all night as a kid and dream of distant lands and how important I was in those worlds. Because they were my worlds, where no parents fought, no families argued and not even dear pets died. They were all under my control, under my will.
Years have gone by, dreams were utterly and cruelly murdered and suddenly my worlds realised that fights had to exist and pets had to die, for when it’s so dark you cannot see, God gives you light so you can get over death omens and separations.
I continue to stay up all night and my worlds are still under my control, but they are real for me more than they ever were. I accepted the fact that these things happen and, as cheesy as it may sound, the shit in life makes you stronger to get where God meant you to end up. I truly believe that I’ll never suffice my thirst for creativity and new universes and that someday, not far from now, I’ll achieve my dream to publish my creations.
I know I’ll suffer and I’m glad I will, because that’ll give me anger, courage and will to imagine throughout the night, until I sleep my last dream and write my last word of my everlasting worlds.
Farofa Pop 