Dreams drive me... and ironically I do some of my best dreaming driving. I go to work dreaming. I work dreaming. I come home dreaming and I work on my dreams dreaming. If I didn't dream, the sheer routine of life would almost assuredly drive me entirely mad.
But the world isn't made for dreamers, it prefers you jaded... in a box, like everyone else. The box is safety, its systematic uniformity offers discontented security. You can talk about how unhappy you are in the box, that's quite expected, but don't question the necessity of the box, that's quite terrifying, the box is safety, remember?
You're a dreamer though. Safety is less important to the dreamer. Safety leads to monotony, and monotony is the most terrifying thing the dreamer's ever faced. That's why they dream. To escape the monotony, to run from the routine. They'll call you crazy, they'll warn you against your hazardous dreams... but the bottom line is you can't stay in the box. Your dreams don't fit in the box. Your dreams will die in the box.
So when you start poking holes in the box to see what's out there, don't stop. Keep dreaming, keep testing the box. One day when you tear a hole big enough to escape. Everyone you leave in it will tell you how lucky you are. But you'll know the only reason you got out is because you worked your butt off... and even more importantly, you didn't stop dreaming.