It seems like there's a war raging, with ourselves, within ourselves. To work towards a goal, achieve something. The next moment, talk about sipping coffee in that café on the sidewalk, lose ourselves in those streets, take a day off just to read, be the people in those pictures we just shared on Instagram.
Like a cycle whose breaks won't work, no matter how hard we try, this is how it feels to wake up, get dressed, run, run fast so that you don't miss the train, work, dream, sleep..the sun sets and rises, repeat.
"No regrets when we grow older", the younger us had said. There lies a reminder email to not be late for the meeting tomorrow morning.
And then I hear Mondays are the worst, but aren't Tuesdays the same too? And since we're here, each of those days when we are more dreaming about what we'd rather be doing than actually doing it.
The last hope remaining that if only dreaming was enough.