Conscious Dreamer

I always dream of becoming a world-famous ballerina. Brushing my arms against my vibrant petticoat. Lifting the feather-like weight of my feet using my tiny ballet shoes. Waving my hands freely as I took a breathe through the coolness of air.

I dream to see the world by joining international ballet competitions that open the door for my breathtaking performances. Hearing the spine-tingling screams and applauds from the audiences and seeing their ecstatic faces as I leap through the heart-thumping music played on the background.

I dream of dancing with other well-known ballerinas of our time. Conditioning the restless butterflies in my stomach as I’m preparing for my performance. Hugging my Dad the moment he gave me a bouquet of lovely flowers as a sign of β€œanother job well done”. Handing a bottle of water from my Mom as she’s patiently wiping the drops of sweat on my face. Kissing both of my parents’ cheeks the day before the terrible accident that permanently changed everything.

On this day, I am staring blankly on my pathetically amputated legs. Feeling the darkness of the moment. But still, I am consciously DREAMING.

Another fictional stuff I made while waiting for my morning class instructor. πŸ™‚

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