I feel that I have transformed into a zombie these days; doing the job, working out and tossing in the bed sleeplessly. But this post is not for the physical state I am in, it is for a reason which is much more grave than that. I don’t have any dreams anymore. May be because zombies never had one and were never expected to have one anyways.
I no longer dream of being rich, of being famous [ or going on a date with DP 🙂 ]. It is something which is very strange because I have been a dreamer throughout my life. May be it is because of the job, may be I am slowly becoming a part of the system, joining the rat race and waiting desperately for my pay check. Suddenly “Follow your dreams”, the maxim I used to live by seem to have evaporated, and the bubble of surrealism I had created for myself seem to burst.
This is when I start questioning myself. May be I am not special, not meant to do special things in life? May be I am just another guy who is blessed with decent looks not so much like Brad Pitt but not less than the regular Joe; the guy who is talented enough to survive and wade through but not the one who escalates and reaches the top echelons; the guy whose red carpet is laid when he enters his house, off course without any paparazzi; the guy whose swagger is natural when in the company of his friends and bloated like an air balloon when amongst strangers.
I know I am not that guy, because I am still fighting to not to be the regular Joe.