I want to change the world. I want to make a difference. I want to challenge the impossible.
I want to dream big. I want to go on journeys that I have yet to imagine. I want to stretch my wings and explore the world beyond.
I have so many dreams and visions, so many motives and agendas, so many glimpses of clarity and insight. Yet what shall I do, for I am but a child clinging desperately to its mother’s arms?
I desire to venture out and explore, to expose hidden realities and to grasp fleeting clarities, to go on great adventures as in the distant yet vivid tales of olden day men of great renown.
Yet, in this big, messy world, I am but a child finding its way, trotting down the streets of public paces, peering down the alleyways of private faces. One in search of meaning and direction, one discovering fables and fantasies, one learning his place and purpose in the short span of time he has on this land called earth.
A drizzle down the streets of this city called Melbourne. A little child stares at the vast gloomy skies. Wondering when the time would come when he would finally grow up. Wondering when he can finally take his place in this world as one fully matured, ready to bring his childish dreams and fantasies into full reality. Wondering when, at last, he can live out the adventures of his childhood heroes to make a change, and to make a difference in this great, big world.
