Ideality is as thin as fog hanging in the air. Never materializing into rain, or evaporating away to let the sun out.
It merely is, and then is not.

That’s all a dream will be, until you believe it is something worthy of reality,
and you work hard towards that idea in your head of how it’s going to be.
Inevitably, something entirely different will happen instead.

But at least it’s raining; at least you feel the heat of the sun breaking through the clouds.
Sore and broken, you can finally see what’s in front of you,
And know that not all dreams stay behind that impenetrable veil of what could have been.

-Luciana, 29