What do you want to be when you go to sleep?

I regret skipping my professional orientation class. Or maybe there was never taught such a subject in my school, I can't really remember.

I can only be sure of some occasional thoughts springing to my mind. Thoughts about occupations that were never an option.

Once I wanted to be a poet. After that I wanted to be a sculptor, a traveller, a lover, or even a mother. I wanted to be a dancer even though I can hardly dance. I even wanted to be French at some point.

There's one thing I accidentally managed to succeed in. I wanted to be a dreamer and so I became one. I found out I could dream on and be all those things. I could be Billy Elliot, Monet, God, Verlaine, Rodin, Poe or Bukowski. I could even be a french girl with freckles working in a bakery. I also dreamt about helping people and not being suspiciously looked at. I dreamt about being surrounded by smiling people. While dreaming I often pretend there's no hate, or ego, or poverty, or pessimism. I pretend the air consists of Oxygen and Love.

No wonder why I'm finding it harder and harder to wake up.