Bright eyed and getting older, I had hope and wanted to be the greatest . I made all the effort I could. I signed up for a heroes guild, set myself up and created a fortress as a safe space to share tales of my adventures. The goal was never getting rich, the goal was to earn respect doing what I loved.

There’s also the damsel, my princess that I’ve had my arms around. A beautiful woman inside and out. Like with any hero, she gives me strength and helps me become all that I can be.

I made my way into the big wide world. As a lover of fantasy I believed in monsters and demons but nothing could match what I found in the world. The real monsters deceive, they slowly destroy you over time. I picked a fight with a demon and after months I started to win. The fight gave me purpose, made me whole.

Soon I realised that it’s better to be gored by the Minotaur than feel the pain of everything I know crumbling around me.

I saw a change in the true powers of the universe so I backtracked a bit. To dance with a demon that refuses to die while I watch the earth crumble from beneath my feet was just too much. It proved that I’m not strong enough.

It’s all too much and yet never enough. I am the hero of my story, the protagonist of reality. I look at everything and wonder how it will effect me be it through riches or respect. I see now that I desire to help others, to save the world from the dragons rather than just fighting for myself.

Now I see that my allies are all just Jareths, goblin kings that have no power over me. Life is a labyrinth where Pandora’s box is open and the evil flows as a river from mount Doom.

The truth is that all the things I wanted, my belief in fantasies and the respect that I desired, these were all just dreams. And dreams, dreams are fleeting things.