There is no dream better than reality, especially when reality was once a dream. Here I am, 150 metres above the Pacific ocean, not nearly as enriched and inspired as you think, but rather as scared and anxious as I believe.
I am petrified but grinning from ear to ear. I won’t let anxiety take this moment away from me. I am talking about my fear of heights, death, or having it all (I am superstitious and believe in ‘good thing followed by bad thing’ life structure). After a period of experiencing panic attacks caused by almost everything, I forget what is to just let the moment grab you and dance with you, without worrying what comes next.
The wind is embracing my body as the waves are splashing beneath. I breathe deeply with my eyes fully opened for a change, this time I am not afraid (unfortunately I am not exaggerating, panic attacks make you a pathetic coward).
Inhaling serenity and wildness, exhaling doubts and prejudice, I trust myself. My legs are shaking, my head is overthinking but who cares? I blame myself. I indulge myself. I trust myself. I save myself.
There is no dream better than reality, especially when reality was once a dream. Here I am, fearful, consequently weak not as overwhelmed as you think, but rather as hilarious as I believe.