One of my students asked me earlier what is my dream?

I took a pause and smiled. The one I always practiced whenever that certain question appears.
And I would always say the same line, "To become an English professor someday," I've practiced it so much that it sounded so real.

It sounds so real that I almost deceived myself with that.
To be honest, I don't have a dream nor goals. I never looked forward to a long future.
I don't know? Probably it's a mindset that I developed when I was growing.
Reality hit me hard that I'd rather enjoy the fantasies I wrote or read in books than in real life.
I'm tired of hoping, I'm tired of disappointing myself, and I'm tired of aiming so high.
I just want a steady life. A straight line.
Where there are fewer expectations and fewer disappointments.
 

I have been very honest with my parents that I have no plans for my future.
What's the point? We'll become clouds of dust anyway.