A life spent chasing dreams awards only emptiness and disappointment. Dreams are only dreams, meant to live only in one’s fantasies. This life massacres dreams. The fate of all dreams is to rot away. And the rotting corpses of dead dreams endlessly weigh down both mind and soul. A broken heart takes time to heal, but this life is relentless. A life of loneliness hungers for love. The heart of a lonely man is filled with lovely dreams and those dreams are constantly assaulted by reality. A heart full of despair is burdened by the memories of the deaths countless broken dreams. A heart, shattered and torn, bleeds a river. And the river becomes a lake, and the lake an ocean, an ocean of his feelings, his attachments, his love, poured out freely. No longer seeking the joys of a lover, but cherishing friends and sacrificing his pleasures for the enjoyment of his family. Enduring the endless pain he is comforted by their smiles, abandoning his dying dreams so that theirs might flourish. It is better not to dream than to hope and live to see that hope murdered. It is better to be content with what one has than to strive for that which he can never have. Better to be together as friends forever than to forever lose a lover.
Better Friendship than Love
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