In: Philosophy and Psychology

Submitted By shaixx
Words 355
Pages 2
Hopes and Aspirations
We all have dreams. They are our hopes and aspirations. We all dreams of something, whether it be growing up to be rich and famous, marrying that one person of our dreams, or anything else we wish to accomplish. Dreams are the pleasant images that pass through our mind during slumber. The bottom line is we all have dreams and one day we hope to accomplish them

For the most part people believe the cliche that dreams do come true. Obviously everyone wants their dreams to come true, because we have this impression that dreams are supposed to be these wonderful and magical visions. When we have a bad dream, we give it a totally different name, we call it a nightmare. When we have a good dream, we do not have a separate name for that. So this gives dreams a positive connotation. Most people are fine with this, and do not think anything of it. The etymology of the word actually means something quite different. The word dream originates from a German word, which actually means to deceive or delude. It also has to do with ghost or apparition. Somewhere along the way the word changed from something that had negative connotation to a more peaceful and happy word.

I do not believe that the phrase dream should keep its positive association with out having some negative side. What I find very strange is, the meaning of the German word that dream derives from is not found in any English dictionary today. It can only be found when searching for the etymology of the word. So dream used to have a semi-negative connotation and now it is very positive.

I believe that the meaning of the word dream should not have been changed. It makes sense, dreams are something that are delusions. In reality most dreams do not

come true. Yet we are raised to believe if you want it bad enough it will come. In my opinion that is bullshit. I've had many realistic…...

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...Terry? The fact sent an immense bang into my head, stabbing it with thousands of knifes. “…..don’t keep your hopes high. In fact, there is no hope unless a donor turns up. We have already placed him on the waiting list. All you can do is wait and care for him. Or maybe you can consider putting him to sleep forever.” Something within me snapped as the words “no hope” registered. Still in a state of daze, I stumbled out of the room and to the intensive care unit. The constant beeping sound of the heart rate monitor was the only sound sharp enough to slice through the deadly silence that washed over the nauseating atmosphere. My sixteen-year old son, Terry, laid stiffly, like a corpse if not for the steady rise and fall of his chest, across the hospital bed, white sheets pulled all the way to his chin, with lots of machines attached to him. He looked extremely vulnerable and fragile, that the slightest wind would blow him into pieces. My heart ached at the sight of this and wrenched in pain at each beeping sound. He had been so alive just a few hours ago. He still has had so many years ahead of him, supposedly. What will happen to me if he was gone? His mother died of an illness when he was one year old, leaving us, father and son, to rely on each other. “Papa, You are my father, my friend and my hope. I love you.” “I love you too, Terry. I am and forever will be your hope.” Memories of a happier age came charging like a red bull. Unable to contain my emotions, I felt my......

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