Tag Archives: dreams

at the core of existence

Hope exists as something similar to magic.

It is embedded within nearly every human interaction; it lies at the heart of everything we do within our lives, aside from the basic and innate actions. We work hard because we hope for more money or that promised promotion. We dress nice and groom ourselves in hopes of gaining the attention of others. Most of us even try to live moral lives with high hopes of somehow being rewarded in the end.

So often, we even hope when all rational thought tells us that we should not. Even as sane, reasonable adults, we let our hopes drive us to dream of the improbable and impossible. I have met a few people in my life who give the persona of not holding hopes for anything, and even then I have to wonder how much of it is true. Is anyone really capable of not holding out hope for things? I’m compelled to think not.

Hope tends to be a really dangerous thing for me. I tell myself not to think about something I desperately want; getting my hopes up to only have them shattered leaves me in emotional turmoil. Maybe this reaction is due to my struggle with bipolar depression, but it is there nonetheless.

How do I keep myself from hoping? I become so singularly-focused that it is borderline obsessive. I over-think and analyze every aspect of a situation, attempting to mentally force my will on the Universe (real Jedi-mind-trick type of wishful thinking).

This past week has been a prime example of how I can get carried away with my hopes, even as I tell everyone around me my rational response to a situation. I wanted something that is practically impossible for me, and I really let my imagination get carried away. I considered something life changing, hoping that mere wishful thinking from me and my husband could make it happen. I spent time researching; reading and learning anything that could give me the answer I wanted. Even as I jested with my husband and others, I was an internal storm of emotion.

Halfway through the day, I had to face harsh reality. It was clear as day in front of my face that things were not as I hoped, and even then, part of me still ached for the impossible. Even as my husband seemed to have gotten what he wanted, I found he felt lacking as well. We both hoped for something that wasn’t going to happen, and recovering from it will be a little painful.

How do you climb back from that when you were the one to put yourself there in the first place?

So, as magical as hope can be, it can be just as dark and excruciating as most things in life. It guides us, it drives us, it molds us, and it even serves as the only thing holding us together sometimes. Still, it can be the force that wrecks us in the end.

Is that a reason to give up all hope? Definitely not, but it would probably be wise for me to restrain myself from going down this same path of fruitless hope ever again.


i dreamed a dream

Last night I had a dream that I was dying. I had a brain tumor, it was my final day, and I had no one. Those closest to me had more important things to do, and could not be with me.

I was so angry.

I didn’t want to be alone. I didn’t want to die. Most of all, I didn’t feel like I was finished. There were so many things that I had decided I still needed to do.

I woke up with a deep ache of loneliness that is hard to describe. I immediately wanted to take action, but it was barely after 3 in the morning. How could I make my life worthwhile with my family still deep asleep?

It is not often that I consider my future in a serious way. Honestly, I have never been able to picture my future at all. For as long as I can remember, there has been a block in my mind that did not allow me to imagine myself in any sort of positive situation years from now. I can daydream, of course, but beyond a few years, it all goes blank for me.

This has been true in all things except with my writing and the cafe/used book store that I will open. Writing is something so innate to me; it’s a craving that I have. I am constantly thinking about story lines and characters, but it can be extremely difficult to get them all down and written. Most of the time, they just stay stuck in the recesses of my mind.

The cafe is different, though. I am pushing myself to get through earning my business degree because it will hopefully give me a boot up with acquiring business loans. The atmosphere, the selling points, every detail is figured out for me. I have never wanted something so badly.

It was the idea of my ideas going unrealized that made the dream so awful. I felt like my potential was being thrown away, and that alone tortured me.

As I grow older, I am realizing more and more that my biggest fear is to live a mediocre life. To live in a monotonous manner where I repeat the daily tasks of everyone else. I want for so much more, not only for me, but for my kids and husband as well. Am I alone in this? The problem is that the only way that I know to live wonderfully, the only way that my family can be successful and free at the same time is to work up to it. We have to live in monotony now, we have to live the repetitive and boring days now.

Pulling through being normal and regular and just like everyone else is hard, especially for someone like me who swims against the current and refuses to stay up to date with trends. It feels too much like shoving a square peg in a round hole; there are parts of me that just cannot assimilate.

Maybe I am naive in thinking that I am somehow different. Maybe everyone craves for individuality and a lasting mark like I do. Still, there is so much ahead of me, but I always feel like I’m running out of time. I have this internal feeling of doom. I cannot get past it, and I feel like I need to rush through this school part to get to my reward. It feels so close that I can taste it, but I am still years away….


a single dream

this Tolkien quote probably means more to me than most, not because i am an avid and overly-enthused fan, but simply because my dreams tend to have such a powerful effect on my life. i am one of those people that will randomly discuss my dreams with strangers when they were just asking how i am on this fine afternoon. i talk about my nightly dreams nearly every day, and i think this is how my husband first discovered just how crazy i am.

it’s not the fact that i have dreams that drives me to this topic of conversation. it is the way that i am dragged into unrecognizable worlds, and how the atmosphere of those dreams often plagues me for days afterward. it is that these dreams create a craving for writing that is so intense, i really have no idea what to do with myself.

normal people

maybe the outlandish dreams that i have are totally normal. it is completely possible that my suspicion of abnormality it just an exaggeration of my mind.

this being said, don’t  be surprised when this blog becomes a play by play of the weird worlds i enter each night.

slightly strange