I don't really know who I'm writing to
But then, we never really know, do we?
Not until we meet them.
Some people sing, some people dance
Some joke, and still others act
We each do it for our own reason.
To fulfill a dream we were born with...
a dream woven into the very fabric of our being.
We do it to satiate some inner need,
to appease a deep longing.
Not all of us will accomplish the things we've dreamt of
since taking our very first breath.
At least not in the way we thought we would.
But still, we continue to dream.
Because the very moment we stop dreaming,
We lose hope, we lose happiness, we lose faith . . .
We lose our very reason for existence.
So we cling to our dream,
never realizing that we just might be doing what we dream of doing,
what we're meant to do,
as we race towards realizing our dream.
I don't know who I write to, only that I must.
Because it is my dream, it is what makes up my DNA.
And I won't ever stop writing . . . or dreaming.