I wish it was a dream

Strong wind blows across my face. Wind that was threatening to make me fly. Not that I bothered. I was sitting on the rock, shoes on my side looking down into the cliff. It was a tough climb, 2 days long. 2 days in bright sun yet lots of solitude. The daily routine was behind me. At last I knew where I was going. I knew my destination. It was such a relief to forget everything and push for that one goal.

What was it that I saw in the abyss? Not surely my achievements. Not even my money I made. Nor was it people I had helped. All I saw the futility of life. A wasted life. And what made it worse was that even now I could not see what else I could have done. Everything and everybody being a wasted thing. Things like a yo-yo.. turning round and round, neither achieving anything nor breaking down.

What was it which was worse. Seeing through things that money and achievement did not matter in the end? Or was it not having found anything else to replace the worldly things?
Or was it going through the highs feeling guilty of not having done something better? Or was it going troughs feeling guilty of not overcome the grief?
Was it being conscious enough of seeing through the futility of things and not being conscious enough of noticing the higher goal?

Yet the feeling of the wind on the face is beautiful. The dark clouds above shade the fiery sun. And I am away from grind. I have reached my goal. Its ecstatic.

Yet, I wish its a dream. I wish it was a dream.