If I Could Choose the Dream

When I wake, I think of nothing.

My mind is blank, but my heart is clear.

Then it comes—pulsing, deep, and steady—a sensation I love.

A car.

Not just any car, but the one I have dreamed about for years. The way the sun catches its polished surface, the low hum of the engine, the smell of leather and gasoline blending into something intoxicating. It is not only a machine—it’s freedom on wheels.

The Dream I Always Return To

If I could choose the dream I would live in forever, it would always start the same: I’m behind the wheel, my hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, the road stretching ahead in endless possibilities. There’s no traffic, no deadlines, no phone buzzing with demands—just the hum of the engine and the wind rushing past the windows.

The car isn’t just transport. It’s a vessel for adventure. A symbol that I can go anywhere, see anything, and live without boundaries. In my dream, every turn of the road leads to a new horizon, every horizon a new chapter.

Why a Car?

Some people dream of houses with golden gates. Others dream of boats slicing through turquoise seas. For me, it’s the car.

A car means control.

It means I choose the pace, I choose the direction, I choose when to stop and when to keep going. Life rarely offers us that much choice, but on the road, I am the author of my own story.

Maybe that’s why it pulses in my heart when I think about it—the way a musician feels about a favorite instrument or an artist about a brush. The car is my key to unlocking the map of my life.

The Road as a Teacher

Driving has taught me more than I expected. On the road, you learn patience when traffic slows you down. You learn awareness when the weather changes suddenly. You learn courage when you have to take a turn you’ve never taken before.

It’s strange how roads and life mirror each other: sometimes smooth, sometimes bumpy, sometimes so unpredictable that you just have to grip the wheel and trust yourself to get through.

The Dream Journey

If I could choose the dream, I’d start in the early morning, the sky still painted in pale blue and gold. The city streets would be quiet, the world still waking up.

I’d drive toward the mountains first, watching them grow larger on the horizon. The air would cool as the road began to twist and climb, and I’d roll the windows down to breathe it all in.

By noon, I’d find myself by the sea—the salt tang on the breeze, waves crashing in the distance. I’d park the car and just sit, letting the engine rest while my soul filled with the sound of water meeting land.

In the evening, I’d find a small town I’d never been to. I’d walk its streets, meet strangers, share stories. And when the night came, I’d sleep under the stars, the car parked close, ready for wherever tomorrow’s dream would take me.

Reality vs. the Dream

Of course, in real life, driving isn’t always like that. There are bills to pay, traffic jams to endure, and responsibilities that pull us away from the open road.

But even in reality, I carry the feeling of that dream with me. Whenever I drive, even just to the grocery store, I imagine that somewhere beyond the next turn lies something new, something undiscovered. That mindset turns even the smallest trip into a miniature adventure.

Why This Dream Matters

Some people might say it’s silly to center a dream around a car. But the car isn’t the dream—it’s the freedom, the possibility, the endless choice it represents.

We all have something that makes our heart beat faster, that clears the fog from our minds and makes us feel alive. For me, that’s the sound of an engine starting and the road opening up before me.

If I could choose the dream, I’d choose to keep driving—not just through roads, but through life itself—always moving forward, always chasing the horizon, and always ready for the next turn.

Living the Dream Every Day

The truth is, you don’t always have to wait for the perfect moment to live your dream. Sometimes, you bring pieces of it into your everyday life.

I may not have endless time to roam the country, but I can take weekend drives to places I’ve never been. I can keep my car clean, my music playlist ready, and my spirit open for spontaneous adventures.

Because a dream doesn’t have to be something far away—it can be something you live in small doses, day by day.

If I could choose the dream,

I’d choose this one—

The sound of tires on an open road,

The wind carrying away yesterday’s troubles,

And the endless possibility of what lies ahead.