Thursday, April 11, 2013

Follow Your Dreams

Because they certainly won’t be following you! If you're not careful, you'll lose them in the chaos of the chase. Your dreams (and mine) are as swift as a king cheetah. If you're not resilient they will even lap you, smiling devilishly as you lag hopelessly behind.

Be warned: they will resort to cunning and mischief to evade you. They might dip into a crowd at a Farmer's Market or impersonate a row of mannequins at a storefront window, or drop down a manhole cover never to be seen again. Be vigilant, always.

Your Dreams are Masters of Disguise!
Your dreams will lie and cheat, even steal. They will spread rumors about you and your family. They'll call and tell you to meet them in a sketchy part of the city, and they'll never show up, but you won't leave the Currency Exchange for hours, just in case they'll come. Maybe now, you'll think. Maybe. Now.

It will seem that your dreams don't even want to be caught. That your dreams are conspiring against you. Or maybe even hate youI wish I could tell you otherwise, but there is plenty of evidence supporting this theory.

Like: when you were thirteen and you were walking with your dreams in the hallway, right after fourth period. You were carrying three of your textbooks and your dreams, without warning, knocked them out of your hands and the textbooks skittered down the tile floors. And everyone, even your dreams, laughed at you. Or when you were telling all your new friends in college about your dreams but then your dreams walked on by and they didn't even acknowledge you, they pretended that they didn't even know you at all. 

Your Dreams May Pulverize You! 
You must realize this. Your dreams are not your friends. Worse, your dreams are a bunch of jerks. If you try and corner them, they might just kick your ass. Be aware. Just because they flee doesn't mean they're afraid of you.

And flee they will. They will get further and further away from you with each passing year. Until you can barely see them in the horizon. This will confuse you for some time. You might even forget what your dreams look like and chase someone else’s by mistake. You’ll think you’ve caught your dreams but then you’ll realize that you’ve been working 9-5 at some dank office for six years and you’ve just been yelled at by your inept boss for the third time that day and when you finally recognize these dreams for what they are (not yours) and you confront them, you’ll only get quizzical stares that say, You really didn’t know?

"Certainly you knew that we were not your dreams?" 
So you’ll try to find your dreams again. You’ll post signs on telephone poles: Have you seen my dreams? You’ll go on the local news and demand that your dreams be returned to you. You’ll roar like a caged lion, full of rage and ferocious impotence.

You’ll grow to hate your dreams. You’ll never want to see them again after everything they have put you through. All that money you lost pursuing them, all that scrutiny from your family. All the light mockery you’ve gotten from your friends who constantly ask, How are your dreams doing now? as they down a cold one with you at the German bar across the street, nursing their own despair until they go back to their homes and quietly weep. 

But you’ll forget all that when, someday, your dreams creep up behind you and push you lightly at your shoulders. You’ll recognize their laugh first as they bolt out of your apartment. You won’t even consider staying on your couch and finishing that episode of Mad Men, you’ll know that you must follow these dreams before they leave your life again. Nothing else will be important at that moment. 

Because, really, think about it, is there anything more important than finally, just maybe, catching them? 

I say, good luck, friend. Go catch those asshole dreams. Send me a postcard, from wherever you end up.

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