A funny little thing called "Happiness"

I hate going through this blog, especially the posts that show the start of my dreams.  you can see the transitions of the beginning to middle, and hopefully not the end.  I start with optimisity(probably not a real word, though it should be), and engage with intent, filled with aspirations and dreams that are waiting to be discovered.  I say over an over what could've been, but never cease to admit that I defeated myself, and that I again am my own undoing.  I must in some how lost my sense of direction, I fill up with ideas that never come across, and are never sough after.  What is the purpose of dreams if they are left unfulfilled? 

A.