...into what delusional world are we living that at every crossroad, instead of choosing a path and possibly not find only happiness and sunshine on it but still take the chance, one only seems to build up roadblocks and can't even imagine the mere existence of hope for better future?
As days pass by and I get closer to the need of making more and more choices it becomes difficult to struggle with the part of me that is afraid of opening doors and going outside and the part that screams 'it's alright to do so'. Why can't I find such small things normal and easy to do? Most of you dream and reach out; I dream of open spaces too, I’m just afraid of them, that's all.
It is not a surprise that it is easier to do something when you know that at the end of the day you return to the comfort zone: watch a movie, talk to a friend, take a bath and relax. It stops being easy when the distance between you and the comfort zone becomes measured in 3 or 4 digits, when the simple thought of crawling into the bed you know, the pillow you like, becomes unreachable.
You leave on a quest for reaching goals and end up longing for what you’ve left behind. Shouldn't we be afraid of the situation when, instead of adapting to goals you abandon them in order to return to what you know?