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The Dream I Refuse to Wake From
I have a dream.
Not the kind that disappears when morning comes.
A dream I carry with me while I study, while I write, while I sit quietly and wonder what my future will look like.
I want to become a writer.
I want to hold a book with my name on the cover and know that every word inside it once existed only in my imagination.
But that's not where the dream ends.
I want my stories to travel farther than I ever could.
I want someone somewhere in the world to open my book on a difficult day and find a little piece of themselves inside it.
I want my words to make someone cry.
To make someone smile.
To make someone feel less alone.
Maybe one day, I'll stand on a stage holding an award.
Maybe my name will be known.
Maybe thousands—or even millions—of people will read something I wrote.
I don't know if all of that will happen.
But I know this:
I would rather chase an impossible dream than live a life wondering what could have happened if I had tried.
So I'll keep writing.
One page.
One story.
One dream at a time.
And someday, when someone asks me,
“When did you know you were going to become a writer?”
I'll smile.
Because I'll remember that I didn't know.
I simply believed.
And sometimes, belief is where every dream begins.287Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡenufygbQKs
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