Adventure isn’t ‘out there’
Neither is purpose
They live inside of you always
Frightening, isn’t it?
When we are old (may it be so)
And all our memories come home to roost
We will easily see
That the days which feel so mundane now
The lives which look so limited
Are painfully colourful
Full to bursting with life
The people you love
The job you can’t stand
The petty dramas
The quiet moments
Beware dreams and goals
That makes your real life
Appear irredeemably grey
Such dreams are a betrayal
It is not our lives which are at fault
It is our conception of what makes a life great
If you believe something can increase you joy
Seek it
But know that the spark that fills life with magic
Was inside you
All along
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