Thursday, April 8, 2010

Pitter-pat, the angel on my shoulder is haunting me tonight.

The story of today.
I sat at this desk two hours ago to write a two-page response paper on one of my favorite poems (I know that doesn't narrow it down) and I have succeeded at just now reaching my third paragraph. I have also accomplished an empty glass of Pepsi as well as the disappearance of two cookies and a mug of cappuccino along with a change in wardrobe and the addition of socks on my feet. I wish I could impress you more by saying I did it all without leaving my chair.

It has been fifteen minutes and I have finished the paper.

If only I could have also finished the cleaning of my room, a trip to the gym, a shower, the cleaning of my bathroom, the washing/vacuuming of my car, the filling of gas in my car, my Gryffindor scarf, my book for Nonfiction Writing, all my reading assignments, my six-page seminar paper, my personality profile of JK Rowling, and the basic decluttering of all aspects of my life.
In my dream I am waiting to board a train from Greece to Prague with a blue suitcase that doesn't have any stickers on it because that's tacky. I meet someone who interests me and we begin a conversation with coffee. We are so enthralled with each other that we miss our train. We therefore decide to travel with no map and make up our own, and I have found my best friend.

In my dream I have an accent and I always wear a scarf from Pakistan. In my dream I am someone who has learned to appreciate the fact that life should be sticky and adventurous instead of plastic and ordinary. In my dream I can love people as they need and not as they deserve. Because in my dream I am my definition of perfect.

This is the mess of where dreams cross with reality. And truly, I don't believe that is ever supposed to happen. Because dreams are not meant to be reality. Even when they do, supposedly become so, it is never as we dreamed. It is either better or worse, but never the same. And if we could spend our time loving what is given, perhaps we could let our dreams be just what they are and nothing more.

I do believe in dreaming. I believe in dreaming big. But I also believe in living small. And I believe that dreams are gifts. But I also believe that small things are gifts. A dream may come true, but we must be sure to know the difference between what is now dream and what is now reality and quit comparing. Make sense? I hope so because I surely don't understand it.
Also, feast your eyes on this --

This is what happens when one searches "feet" on Google images.

1 comment:

  1. Dreaming big, and living small. I like that. It is also fun to watch dreams come true, and to never stop dreaming. . .
    Thanks for the blog.