There comes a time when each person is forced to consider their life’s destiny; their story, if you will. Those with lost hopes on the street were not always so, yet at some point, they transitioned from being people with hopes and dreams to adults, where living day-to-day has replaced any sort of adventure.

It is a terrible transition and one that I am refusing to ever fall into. But of course, no one ever *wants* to become a hopeless wretch without dreams or purpose; where happiness is a transient whim that can come and go without control. How does it happen then, that so many people live having settled for mediocrity, not in jobs or love… but in their lives, entirely?

At what point do we give up on the hope of happiness, and meaning? I don’t know… but I’ve always been afraid of giving up on dreams. THis leads me to ask myself again, just to be sure that I haven’t lost mine… what “is” my end?

Am I meant to be happy? Successful? Purposeful in this greater world? Impacting the lives of those closest to me; or will my greatest impact be to those that I have never met?

I’ve met so many people that are jaded in their views, those that have had a brutal transition from childhood naivety into adulthood realism. It’s a terrible shame, and I’m beginning to wonder if there is any real hope in letting them find their dreams again. And more importantly, to accept happiness when it comes knocking at their door. This is a sad world right now… and I’m taking this moment now to wonder what I can do to make the lives of those closest to me, a little better.