I have so many dreams that it has become a daily obstacle for my, well, reality. It's the kind of thing you see people in movies getting into trouble for when they stare off idly into space...except that I'm not in the middle of a romantic fantasy (usually). It's more of a Romantic fantasy.
I want to get out of here. (Okay, bare with me. I don't mean it in the teenage rebellion way). I mean I want to see the world outside of the States. Granted, I have seen most the states in the continental United States; but here it's all so similar in culture and wealth. I want to live in lands completely foreign to my own, and make a career of somehow cataloging all of it so I can use work as an excuse to travel. Surely this is a universal dream - and totally cliche - but I think, for me, writing while continually on the road to discover and gain more inspiration from new sights is the way I would like to spend my life, post-university.
The harm, as I mentioned initially, is all of the hypothetical sort. I could miss out on so much, always being on the move. I'd have to abandon so much interaction and possibly miss out on meeting and keeping daily communication with so many people.
After a while it seems more like a recluse's life. But this has been the kind of lifestyle I have repeatedly dreamed and day-dreamed about for the past four years.
Maybe it will leave me or maybe not. I hope to find out before I'm truly independent; I'd like to keep these childish dreams alive.