I don't set long term goals. This is probably due to countless days and hours of unfinished lists. If I write it all down then it's so much more pressure and only a clearer failure when it doesn't happen.
Dreams and desires feel different to me. It's not so much that I'm pushing myself to do something, but that something inside me is pulling unbidden toward an unseen destination. A yearning. A painful aching. A secret hope.
Where do they come from? Are they catalysts placed inside by our manufacturer, or the remains of resistance to a more mundane reality, or something else entirely? Why do some of them seem so arbitrary or impossible and difficult to admit or share?
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