A dream I had. What does it mean?
In the palm of my hand I hold everything that I have ever seen in the pits of my dreaming world of waking wonders. It glows fitfully with a guttering distinctiveness that tugs at my soul like a star crossed lover, reluctant to let go, crying in despair. What is it that makes this such a thing to be kept that I cringe at the thought of what I am about to do? The wind races by me from the ascendant heights of a boiling, black sky and the landscape below is cast in shadows of inky night, spread out before me like an ebon map of rolling hills and patchwork fields. The ball of light flairs in my hand, a plaintive wail of illumination, emerald and sapphire plays of fluorescence glimmering warmly along the tears that track my face. Why am I holding on? What makes me feel so compelled to keep this thing? Why does it want so badly to stay? It's only a mass of writhing fantasies, a tightly compacted package of every illusion I have ever cast, every muse that I have ever danced with, all of the chimera's that have ever lived and breathed within the vast tapestry of vibrant life across which the inexorable army of my inner visions marches. In my palm I hold the entire universe of my dreams and it is mourning with such terrible despondency as to tear my very soul asunder...
...Because I am about to throw it all away.
I heft the ball of light and it screams pitifully in a flamboyance of red and orange. What good does it do? I cannot reach it. I can never make it real. It's just a world that exists nowhere but within the confines of my own mind. Who can see it? Who even cares? What loss to anyone will it be if I turn my back on this forever and live...?
...A normal life, a life without the constant quest for the unattainable; a life without the seductive distractions of dragons in flight and super heroes saving impossible worlds from certain destruction. A life without flying through endless skies and falling into a sweet lovers embrace, a lover of unattainable beauty, boundless love and unquenchable desires...
...A normal life. Yes, now there is a dream worth striving for, to take what I can touch and feel and make for myself something real. These things that I have dreamed for so long, on which so much of my time in this world has been wasted, they beg sorrowfully to be given another chance, to be placed back into the hollow where they have lived for so long, next to my heart, deep in the trackless ocean of my mind. It occurs to me fleetingly that I have no idea what is going to happen to me from here onward, once I have tossed this thing away. There will be no more certainty, no knowing that the hero will save the day, that good will triumph over evil... There will only be myself vs. the wiles of fate with not much more than my wits and the hole in me where my dreams once resided. I will have to face life with iron resolve and determination...
And that is good, is it not? That which does not kill us only makes us stronger. What use are dreams when there is no possibility of tangibility? They're just pretty rainbow dressing upon an otherwise drab and gray world but the world we live in is the only one we have. Go to work, make your money, pay your bills and eat. Then start over again, the whole time keeping your eyes on the next paycheck working towards a better tomorrow... because it's real...
And with that, I rare back with the sphere of my dreams, it flashes with titanic terror and lights the sky with a brilliant, prismatic display of multi spectral misery and I throw it as hard as I can to watch it tumble away, screaming, down into the blackness, away... away... gone...
And then it strikes me that I have done something irreversible and the tears flow freely, a flood of regret filling the hole where my dreams once resided. The question starts repeating itself with whispery doggedness from somewhere in the back of my mind and a cold terror washes through me as I realize the magnitude of what I have just done. The final glimmering of my cast away dreams finally dies in the gloom away and below and the wind is suddenly very, very cold as the question that haunts me settles across my mind. I see, too late now, that you can throw them away, perhaps to lose them forever...
...But how do you kill a dream?
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•L.1.F.3.•MeMe•E-Zine•
HumorTable of (Unwritten Chapters) Contents. Nothing has been added beyond the following 5 chapter headings. Y'all gotta write your personal perspectives of each topical title in comments below. Or not. It's up to Y'all; Are You We or are We You? 😉 ... ...
