Becoming a Failure For a Better Future

When I was younger, I used to have the same recurring nightmare. 

As most children do, from a very young age I was unfortunately bestowed with a deathly fear of the dark, and for me, this phobia seemed to manifest itself in the most haunting manner. 

Night after night, whilst still asleep and within my dream, I'd wake up. 

I'd feel this suffocating, fluid blackness heavy against my limbs and my chest, crushing the air out of my lungs and almost stinging this sense of fear into my very skin. The dark would press heavy against my temples, and my eyes would stare wildly, seeing nothing. And every night I'd fight so desperately to escape it. 

Now as an adult, I know this was sleep paralysis, but as a little kid, you can imagine this was scary as BALLS.

I, The Author of My Days

I want to create beauty.

For so long I've felt lost and afraid of the future, endlessly worrying that I have no plan, my end goal too unattainable to be little more than a dream.

But four days ago, sat in the Gatherly offices, completely off guard, it hit me with full brute force. 

If the inside of my mind were reality, the sky would've ripped open and the ground began to quake, sending objects flying and people fleeing as potted plants and various office paraphernalia began to shower the frantic room.

But this was reality, and sitting (mostly) dignified on that black leather sofa, quietly listening to the illuminating words of Tash and the Gatherly staff, the only clue I could give as to the monumental epiphany occurring inside my brain was the agitated jiggling of my foot and the small excited tremble in my smile.