Dream on
"Stop dreaming, and you will have nothing but hands to swipe away your tears..."
Dreams are hopes and aspirations we treasure, perhaps more than ourselves. In the quietness of the night when all the living sleep, they come to life. The sub-conscious comes to play in the field of the mind. Without trying, we weave ideas within ideas, the magical universe of dreams, man has so imagined, but could not make it real, is the sanctuary without limit man imposed on the self. Like butterflies, the Deja-vu flashes by amidst the fragrant flowers of memories no more submerged in the depth of mind. Time is irrelevant. Only imagination is. It is the key to unlock the door of impossibility. Beyond their lives only treasured moments. And as we come to the surface of consciousness, we try to grasp that. But that is forgotten as we force the self to immerse itself in the mundane. Forgotten but not forever for they live on when we dream again.
Dreams are the soothing balm to the hurts of the mind. Burdened by the despair for the bleak future and remorseful past, what joy we have left only an after taste of its passing. Without the hope of reliving that moment what is the meaning of going on? What hope could be without the lightness of dreams always tenderly touching the inner child within us in-between the pure fantasy and harsh reality? A dream can only be the tight rope high above where we must walk on with a smile to the crowds in the circus of life. Wearing pretty clothes patched up around our body with a crown of responsibilities on our head, alone we need to walk on the tight rope and be brave. We may hear boos, gasps, or rare cheers but never could we lose our balance. For balance is what life is, beginning to the end and in-between. And without it we are lost, we will fall, never to walk again.
We see the falling star and make a wish. Wish for the dream of our life to come true. Or just a simple wish for a simple human. Some wishes come true and others just are forgotten as they should be. And yet, there lives a will in each of our wishes and in every one of us, when we continue to nurture, a beautiful dream. Maybe the dream is not ours but our parents who could not fulfill it or maybe it is someone who left us with only memories and dreams as souvenirs. By keeping the dreams alive we keep the will of our humanity alive, our meaning of existence true. Giving way to new, one day, we will pass that will to someone unknown, who will never know us but will understand us nonetheless.
From rags to riches, only with that dream as a true companion, how many of us flounder uphill? Or fall with disgrace entangled in the mire of the nightmare? Still, we dream of clutching at straws of lifeline, until lady luck smiles on us. Perhaps it may be a delusion but what are we without dreams, hopes, and aspirations. Is the justification of life to continue to procreate or die in nothingness? Or is it to dream on despite the harrowing despair of loneliness of living, foolishness of pride, and the simplicity of life veiled in the ignorance of mystery?
Insomnia may bring us down but give up dreaming is to fail to ourselves. We need to dream, share them with 'real' people and work on those dreams. If we give up dreaming little by little life gives upon us, and in the end, what is left is the husk. There will only be ego without substance, and man without spirit. And even those tears that drenched the calloused hands; tears of regret, sadness, and woes will dry. The world will lose its touch and like ghosts, we could only haunt the familiar until time takes us all. So, how cowardly our tiny heart might be, we need to dream on. We need to carve our little existence into the world and fake it till we make it, that which we aspire to be. Then the veil of reality we glimpse will break like brittle glass and we will truly see the world for what it is, not what it should be.
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