Dear Keeper of Dreams, I know who you are.

I know everything about you.

You disguise yourself as perfection.

You are the fear that does everything you can to hold me back.

That begs me to be complacent. But I see through you. Keeper of dreams, you are the journey

never started. Because when you look at the road ahead, you see struggle, you see impossible.

You don't see the opportunity or the reward, but I do. Keeper of dreams, you are the voice in the

back of my head that constantly reminds me,

conformity would be easier, that forfeiting greatness would lift a tremendous burden off of my

shoulders. But I live for that burden.

Keeper of dreams, you are the odds, telling me that I am only one in a world of

seven billion, that someone else will achieve it, create it, make it happen. But if there must be one,

it can and will be me.

Keeper of dreams, you are the voice of supposed rationality, warning me that I'm wandering

into an area I know nothing about that I should wait, that I'm not an expert, that I'm not

good enough.

But I have always believed that learning as you go is better

than not going at all.

One day, keeper of dreams, I will not know you.

I will have left you behind.

Outrun your grass. See, because what I'm trying to do

doesn't leave me time for you. Greatness doesn't come from following the path made by the crowd.

...