I remember the dreamy young girl I was, that always wanted to do more and have more. I remember the young girl that dreamt of perfection and built castles in the air all day long. I remember when the dreams in my waking head were better than the ones in my sleep, and when I was gullible enough to plan what I'd do after they all came true. When I believed that everyone's hearts are pure internally and everyone does their best to be good. When I believed that intent was more important than result, and sensitivity was more important than progress. I remember when I credited emotions, pain and temporary entities more than tangible, real things that have an everlasting effect on people and families. I remember when I believed that everyone has a right to be heard, and people's opinions matter more than what's actually right. I remember when I thought that everyone could change if told in the right way, and that speaking with such tact could have an effect on anyone's mind. I remember when I was dreamy enough to write down all my thoughts and hope to change the world with them.
...
Well good morning honey, but none of that's happening.
It isn't cynicism to accept the way the world is after repeated observation. No person changes unless they decide to themselves, and sometimes not even then. Inspiration and pure intentions don't have any role here except for being crushed under the sole of someone's shoe like dirt. Pain exists, but it's only those who push past it that actually achieve anything in their lives. Dreams are nice to dream about, but life is different; life is about finding happiness where you are and being content with what's already available. If you aren't happy today, there's no way that a different situation will make you happy. No circumstance can change your internal state of mind; that's something that changes when you decide it does.
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