Over the new year I was writing a retrospective but somehow ended up with this. And I guess in essence it sums up what the post would have been about.
I think we all have two types of dreams—the type that starts out when we were young and naive, and were filled with ideals and fantasies; and the type that is a secondary one, layered on top of the first—a goal, or milestones, something realistic, where the world and its realities have taught us boundaries, limits and inhibitions.
I want to learn and change and evolve, but I don't want to lose sight of my first dream and who I set out to be. I suppose it's what Picasso meant by spending his entire life learning how to paint like a child.
Over time, as my second dream grew and grew, I found my first dream diminishing, that it became an almost transparent thing. How sad would it be to lose sight of the reasons I chose my path? It's such a terrible, saddening thought. So in trying to find the child-me that used to daydream and fantasize and was filled with boundless fearlessness, I've started reading fairytales and mangas again, things that inspired my beginnings.
Don't forget that child's dream you used to have, remember the beauty of that unrealistic ideal. It's a fragile and whimsical thing, precious, a part of what made us who we are today, don't let it go.