We tend to dream. Dream of things that are far-fetched. Impossible to achieve. or possible but not yet at this moment. dreams make us imagine, make us believe at certain stuffs, make us smile in a trance-like way.

But dreams make us breathless.

*i dream of owning a Porsche but all i have is a miniature model of a Volkswagen. When can i even buy a real car?

*I dream of the latest model of the Nokia mobile phone to be within my grasp but all i have is a sturdy model of Nokia's 3310, which has been passed around by a dozen hands in five years within the family.

*I dream of having my own set of books, my own written novels, but all i have is not mine. when can anyone let me have my own library? when can i have my stories written in books and be read by any one interested?

*I dream of becoming a top seed player of Badminton worldwide but i DON'T even have my own racket. How ironic.

*I dream of winning a Palanca award yet i DON'T even know where to start. I'm no good, anyway.

Dreams make us breathless. we are left gasping for air, groping around at things that are not even there. when we dream, suddenly something snaps us back to reality. why does reality always lead us back to the real, unwanted world? It's annoying. really, really annoying.

Yes, dreams make us breathless. but even so, they mark the beginning of hope, a will of fighting for what one would like to achieve, even if it takes two months, two years, two decades. dreams make us sit up on the bed, swing our legs to the edge, walk down unsteadily, and struggle for another day's battles. we want to achieve our dreams badly, we want them to come true. and that's the good point. we fight for them to make them real, and to prove ourselves worthy and capable at the same time.

I dream of becoming an astronomer, a renown writer, the best Scrabble and Badminton player. I dream big, i know. But I'm no ordinary dreamer.

I'll make them real.