Where do you live, hippie?
dreams are for sale!
you sell them , as well as your body to the highest bidder. capitalism runs on crushing dreams, so does any other economic system. but they all force you to sell dreams in different ways. in the end, the result is the same. no one dreams of cleaning toilets, or checking ticket stubs. you need to give something to get something. and that’s life. the question is to what extent do you need to compromise yourself and what do you have left.
it's a challange to not get broken by this. perhaps one way to do this is to have sooo many dreams, you never run out. but it all comes to what you have. inside and out. it’s hard and painful to come to terms with this awful truth. but better to steel yourself and gear yourself for the day that you will have to give up on dreams, at least some of them.
try to put a big , unbreakable wall between the “economic” side of life, and the dreams that you have left. i do have dreams left over and they are safely quarantined, i hope. i live them with my baby, i live them with my writing, toy making, and music. i live them with my wife. occasionally those leftover dreams hear noises from behind the wall. they recall their brothers and sisters that used to live on the other side. these dreams affect and effect my work, for the better, i hope. i hope they will stay safe.
build the wall, and yours will be safe too.