I shiver in my dark blue windbreaker as I stand outside the BART station.
I look pretty dumb with my large headphones and a small smile on my face. But I don't care as the music pour in my ears and imagination takes over me.
I think about traveling further than my usual trips.
I think about writing in those places. And where my imagination would take me this time.
But then I realize... everyone has a dream.
A dream to later become something great like a scientist.
Or maybe something small yet important like a teacher.
But all I want to be is a writer... ever since second grade.
Yeah, writing a sentence is easy. You may say being a doctor is harder. And that may be true...
But what can a writer do in this world?
When people keep saying you won't make enough money...
Or that your dream is too big...
You start to believe you won't be able to do the only thing you truly love.
It's ironic how you have to give up something that makes you want to live... just to live.
But I'm still dreaming that...
I will be somewhere anew.
I'll order the same coffee I've always gotten.
I'd bring my big earbuds with the same music downloaded.
I'll pull up the same story that I've started long ago.
And with all the things I love, I WILL be the person I've always dreamed of.