Felt I should follow up on yesterday's post about escapism with further meditations and thoughts.
I read a book about daydream interpretation, the point being you can interpret those as well, and that thinking about them can be really useful.
I'll end with Langston Hughes' famous poem.
Harlem BY LANGSTON HUGHES
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?