Dreams Die Hard

I like to think that I'm practical, that I see the world around me with clear eyes. But I've always had "the dream," out there in front of me. It has always been one of my "drivers" the reason I get up in the morning. Ever since I was a little kid.

The dream always changes. And if I look at things clearly, the dream is usually some weird mirage of success and happiness and validation - a "day dream," a fantasy. I mean, not that I don't realize those things, but they always come in other forms. The specifics of the dream can be big, or little, it doesn't matter. Sometimes it's just something to "tickle my fancy" or sometimes it's a grand life-changer.

Dreams.

There are times when I think the dream is just baggage. The burden of dreams.

Much of my creative work seems in the dream realm, and I'm always expending energy to bring dreams into the "real world." Still the dreams always evaporate. Sometimes I think they vanish without a trace, but probably not, just their brief appearance remakes the world in some weird alchemical reaction. At least on my better days that's what I think.

I sometimes wonder should I just toss these dreams over-board, but then something happens that tells me the dream can be real, it can be realized. That's part of the eternal seduction of the dream.

Even as I take my last breath, I'm sure there will be some dream dancing on my brow. Maybe that's just another dream I can't give up...