Dreams and smoke and evaporation

I realized I'm 26 and slowly being eaten up by the monster I fear.
All my life as a kid, I have always strived to shine wherever I am. Until very recently. All my life as a kid, I have dreamed of things I wanted to do and accomplish. Some came true without sweat-- while others are like dust, at the corner of me life, waiting to be swept by time.

I have always wanted to be in film. Now, when I realized that my dreams are not enough for me to thrive, things fall apart. My life in a complete halt. Now I wait as I see people walk passed by me claiming their dreams. While I wait for mine to be fully exhausted.

I am never good at anything. I see smoke coming out of my pockets.

I guess they are from my dreams I stashed in my pockets from long ago

Now they are nothing but vapor.