That night I asked myself: what would change, really?
That night when I couldn’t sleep, when I lied in a soft darkness with thoughts of wealth for shadowy companions. It was that night, after the meeting we had about the business idea, the business that was going to bring us untold riches — that night dreams of splendor, of abundance, the waking dreams kept me company in the quiet darkness.
I looked through the dreams, examined one after another, turned them around, this way and that, at an angle, from a side. Here was the dream of a huge house — oh, wait, not only one, a house for everyone! Oh, and here Christopher’s car and oh, all the purses and sunglasses and shoes!
And, oh, the travel! Right here, next to a dream of a private jet and a yacht marooned in Monaco. And oh, a flat in Paris, and …
On and on, one after another the dreams floated by, delightful, rainbowy, magical things, and I spun and drifted among them with my arms wide open and my eyes dazzled, until…
Until I grew tired and sleepy. Until a thought came, sharp, black and white thought, stark and simple thought: but how will I change? Will I change? Will I be any different that I am now?
No.
No, came the answer, the small word, two letters have chased the hundreds of dreams away. No.
I would be the same. I would be the same so my life would be the same.
The riches, the wealth and splendid abundance — it would change nothing.
