Those roads

There was once in my life when I had dreams.

I had dreams. Big ones. Small ones.

Those dreams would carry me to faraway places where I could lug a camera along and digitize my memories.

Those were the kind of dreams that made me happy, kept me going. The kind of dreams that made me hold my tongue in the faces of those who challenged me, those who put me down.

Because I know better. Because I had dreams.

And once I turn those dreams into reality, these people who told me I'd never make it would have to swallow their words and drag their sorry asses back to whichever hole they crawled out from.

Pity, those who are without dreams.

But that was a long time ago.

I'm graduating soon. A college graduate. A real one with a degree. One without any real experience, any particular skill.

I'm afraid.

That path that I had paved so clearly in my mind years ago, I can't see it anymore. And those dreams, I don't seem to remember them.

I had always wanted to be idealistic, to be the dreamer and walk down the road not taken.

But now that I look back again, I've walked and I've walked. And yet, it wasn't down the road not taken that I was walking.

It's just another road.

And I don't know which one it is.