What is a goal? Everybody has them, don't they? Some set them before the beginning of each and every day. Others, once a year, after the clock strikes twelve on January 1st. Most don't realize when exactly they set them. But everybody does.

Think of something you wish to achieve. Minor, major, or somewhere between, there it is. A goal. Write it down, or tell yourself to remember it. Then, go out and live life as you normally would. Half the time, you end up accomplishing it anyway. The other half, it ends up being harder than it once seemed.

But what happens to the goals that go undone? Where do they go? Do they disappear into thin air, taking with them any dedication you once had for them? Or do they slowly melt away; go to the place for dreams and prayers and everything else that is isn't fit for the real world?

If they do, I want to go there. I want to travel to the godforsaken place where all my great ideas, everything that I am not worthy of, have been damned to. I want to see what I have given up on without even giving it a second thought, simply for fear of failing or embarrassing my high and mighty self. I want to see how big they get, the goals that I've long since forgotten about. I wish to know how many I have worked ever so hard for and finally given up when the going got tough. I want to see how many I didn't even try for. Most importantly, I want to see if I can fix it; I want to know if I can accomplish them now. Is it too late? Have I long since given up any conviction that I, as pessimistic and utterly self-loathing I am, truly could?

Goals are simply promises to one's own self. Anyone who says they don't break promises is a liar. Not every goal is attainable, no promise guaranteed.