It’s been a tough year. A really tough year. It feels as if they are getting tougher as the time goes by. I wonder if that’s true. Years are passing by and my dreams are still equally displaced and tangible but unattainable as ever. I have changed and I keep changing, but my dreams stay the same. I like to believe that at least that is a good thing, that I will be given what I desire when I am ready. When is that, or what I need to become to become ready, I have no idea. The best I can do is keep moving forward, year at the time, regardless of the challenges Life places in front of me. For twelve years now I’m searching, learning, experiencing, waiting.
It should feel like a long time, and a part of me knows it is, but somehow I only really remember only the last few years, and even that is already fading. Is Time forcing me to be in the Now? Is it a flaw or a gift, my frail remembrance? I have cried countless times, but I only remember the last tear, and this one about to come.
I lived a lifetime in those twelve years, and I’m sure there is much more to come. Life doesn’t stop, even afer you have reached your goals of imaginary importance. World doesn’t care if I will be a successful writer. World doesn’t care if I’ll direct movies and be great at it. World doesn’t care about any of my dreams. I know that, and yet, they still feel real and important to me.
Would I have them in the first place if I wasn’t mean to chase them, or at least overcome them? Either way, they represent something, a goal, a dot somewhere in the distance that prevents me from standing still. They are the reason I cannot settle for what most of people consider to be a good, good life. I don’t want a good life. I don’t want a peaceful life. I don’t even want a “successful” life. I want my life. I want to be guided by my own dreams, even if they mean nothing at the end of the path. I want them to illuminate my way forward and force me to break walls of illusion on my way forward. I need them to help me out and be my never-ending push forward.
It is silly, I know, especially if everything I need to experience in life already exists in me, somewhere under the layers of thoughts, where my Self awaits. But, what can I do but be me, and be me now.
If I’m wise, so be it. If I’m silly, the same.