Slightly Edited Steam of Consciousness

I keep having this dream. I am running a marathon of unimaginable length such that even the concept of a finish line is foreign. A staircase composed of small goals that leads nowhere is rather disheartening. I manage to trick myself for brief moments. Sharing tea with a close friend at a local coffee shop. A dinner party with inspiring people. Trivia nights at neighborhood bars where every wants to know what you do for a living. Ultimately every high hoped departing drive from my condo concludes with a most somber voyage home. I wish my mind and reality had a more honest relationship. I love my family. I love my friends. I love who I am. Everything just feels detached. I am growing increasingly tired of being dragged along in a passive aggressive manner through this somber state. The day in which morning's are anticipated instead of occasionally noted is eagerly awaited.