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Rated: E · Fiction · Experience · #1736956
A man discovers why dreams are dreams.

     
         
          I was the typical person who dreamed the dreams that were unreachable. The types that people tend to "shoot-down" or label as "impossible". I never tended to believe them until now.

  When I was the type to believe in dreams I dreamed all sorts of dreams. Big ones, small ones, some dreams that never amounted to anything in my life, some that just faded along with my enthusiasm that carried one dream for too long.

  My faith, all at once, in everything, suddenly in one moments time, blurred between the creases of dreams and reality. I used to believe in everything, but now?, now, I'm not so sure.

  Yeah, I sound pretty pathetic right? A man who pities himself with the dramatic back of the hand above his brow and the slight arch of the back screaming in an annoying voice "Oh!, woe is me!"; In reality, I'm truly the same as everyone else. I'm the same in the sense of feeling, believing, and trusting in the figments in my head. Figments that reach so far, as far as the eye could see and beyond that. But then, that tiny cloud-like bridge between reality and fantasy suddenly free falls through the open skies of your imagination and, without any warning whatsoever, your dreams and hopes suddenly disappear without a trace.

  Sound familiar? Well, it should for most. Do you ever wonder where your dreams go? Where those little ,big, and insignificant dreams go when you no longer dream them anymore? Do they automatically disappear in thin air like what is mentioned, or do they hide in a little box, sealed off in one portion of your brain, too afraid to step out into the frontal section, too afraid to show itself, to breathe life and hope again.

    Where do the forgotten dreams go when they become forgotten? When they no longer appeal to you or matter in the biggest way as when you first dreamt them up.

  Why do dreams exist if they're only there for a few years, days, weeks, months, maybe even seconds, when all they do is disappear anyway?

  Maybe they, too, have feelings like we do. Maybe, they too lose hope and faith in themselves because no one is dreaming of them anymore. Maybe they shudder at the thought of no longer existing to the point where they die immediately after they are born.

  Maybe, just maybe, they need something. Something such as "food for thought", nourishment to thrive and live. Maybe ,they need a clear stream of hope and perseverance to drink and live on every once in a while when faith flickers blindly in the dark doubts of a person's mind.

    If we, as people of thought and intellect, maybe stop and listen to what our dreams may be telling us instead of us trying to steer our dreams in a hopeless direction when nothing seems to be going "as planned", well then maybe we should nourish our dreams with hope, light, and faith. With the fruits of perseverance and sacrifice, with a sense of "healthy rejection", to dust ourselves off once in awhile and pick ourselves up again.

      Our dreams may be there for one reason, to keep hope, faith, determination, life, perseverance, and many other things alive within us so that we may have hope for the hopeless when their dreams are dying or in need, faith to the faithless when their dreams are too afraid to take that second chance, determination to the ones whose lives are ticking down by an hour glass, just wasting away, and life for those whose lives are dimming and whose dreams are dying with them.

      Maybe the ones who don't dream can be given hope, faith, and all of the above so that one day, a simple little seed of thought and imagination sprouts and grows to the highest potential, and , with a little nourishment and a healthy fear of rejection, they will finally reach their  ultimate dream in fulfilling the definition of life.
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