I went to see my friend perform tonight. She is aspiring singer-songwriter still searching for her true voice. Sitting there trying to look relaxed and spontaneus I kept thinking about dreams; are there unfit or unworthy dreams? Do we weave them or do they sculpt us? Is there a time we should give up on wanting to change ourselves so that change would stop threatening our intimates or is their reluctance to accept change just another sign of disrespect? Should the timid seize given chances in unlikely times of courage or should there be dreams that came to existence just to be forgotten, supressed, cast away?
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