It's come to my realization that I don't really have a dream. A dream like "someday I'll be an astronaut!" Even as a little person I was content with just being. More than content. But happy, serene. Which made me flexible enough to survive the life I had to live. But somewhere I lost that, because people preached success...pride...responsibility. Maybe that's just called growing up. But maybe it was a fundamentally crippling experience that lead to a break in my faith in life. A break that shattered my ability to trust anything that I didn't have a hand in. This is arguably good because it also made me less vulnerable, gullible to a nasty world. But in the same breathe it made me a part of it. I don't want to bite the hand that feeds, because I completely enjoy my quizzical and analytical mind. And even so I can careful and calculated, I'm often careless and impulsive. And in those times, by some miracle, things work out. I get lucky. I'm talking about doing the same careless actions many girls, even in my area (and it's not gender specific, I won't get into the predator prey theories) and those girls are now dead. Fantasy would say I have a guardian "angel".
But, to get back on topic, I don't have a dream. I have lots of things I want to do. But a dream, that I can achieve and feel good dying for/about/after completion...
It's just not there. The idea of life is too tantalizing to compare it to anything material or superficial or even (as I struggle to say) single perception based. Meaning if it's not something that will benefit all man kind... Is it worth dying over? No. Being the worlds most sought after graphic artist... Fun but meaningless
Having the coolest band, or being a famous, or something. The only thing about fame is visibility, a platform, and limited power. Alicia keys, does it right. Erika badu does it right. But many others do nothing with the platform they are given. So... Dreams. Do I need them?
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