“The one drop of living, the one taste of being, has been good; and perhaps our greatest achievement will be that we dreamed immortality…” – Jack London
Remember those? For some of you, they may be a common occurrence. For me, not so much.
Now, before all of you fastidious readers out there start clamoring away with your scientific studies in tow, I know we all have dreams. Whether your conscious awareness retains them or not is a different matter. While this may technically qualify as dreaming, some random discharge of my subconscious doesn’t affect my wakened existence. It doesn’t inspire me to greater.
For me, it has been a very long time since I have had one of those life-changing, awe-inspiring, direction defining visions of the night. You know, the kind of dream that makes you linger with your eyes closed long after you’ve awakened. Maybe it will last. Maybe it was real.
The dreams of my youth would make any grown life proud. The feats I’ve accomplished, the places I’ve been, the hands I’ve held and sights seen…they have defined my desires from a very young age. They molded for me a destiny which I’ve yet to attain, but still plan to accomplish. The longing for those dreams has made read again. It’s driven me to write again. I’m hoping that some sort of creative spark will ignite the inferno of imagination inside of me again. For when I dream, greatness awaits me. When I don’t…reality mocks me.
I won’t be mocked again.