And when it all goes to hell...

So I've been writing:

"A solitary flame lights the room with an orange glow. Shadows dance on the wall as a draft reaches the fire. This is all I know. With the morning comes the daily patrol to the four corners of our small village. A path I know all too well. From the border of the forest to the edge of the stream and back. No one has ever encountered any outsiders on patrol, but it must be done as it always has. No one even knows if there are outsiders. They could be no more real than the stories told to us as children to keep us from wandering away. There was once talk of exploration, but there is no need. We have all we need here. This place is safe. The wind howls outside and the flame nearly blows out. We stopped calling the days by their names long ago, for every day here is the same. Everyone here is happy. It is the perfect world, all we have ever known. The candle is extinguished and I go to bed. I watch the smoke still rising and twisting in the moonlight as I drift off, knowing that tomorrow will be no different from today and all the days of my life."

I don't know what's better - to be complacent with life and everything you do (if that was the case you'd have no need to aspire towards better things), or to have many dreams and goals (many of which you will likely never achieve). It's a hard choice. Personally, I have way too many dreams and things I'd like to achieve. At the same time it sucks that I'm sure I won't get to them all, it's nice to have things to shoot for. Even just the dream itself is nice, even if it never comes true.

I make plans to break plans and I've been plannin' something big, plannin' something big...