Thursday, 31 May 2007


I did have moments in life when I wanted to run off to Hollywood—to escape from whatever was troubling me, or not going my way, and throw myself on the mercy of the city of dreams. The city of dreams. That’s probably why I never actually went. There are dreams we have that might be more properly labelled goals. They’re the things that we want to do—even if they seem impossible for us—we really want to do them. But I’m not so sure the same holds true for our dreams—do we want them to come true? What would happen if they did? What would we have left when we had fulfilled dreams? Or are they there mostly to provide us with a context with which to appreciate what we have, and to reflect on our actual goals?

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