Waking Up From A Nightmare

The long exasperated gasp from air,

Followed by the hyperventilating,

The moisture from your forehead and on the side of your eye a singular tear,

As you burrow further into the sheets the flood from your eyes are just beginning,

The lines between reality and fiction are blurred before the first light,

The nightmares may not be real,

But the tears, sweat, fear all cloud your sight,

And the fear is the truest existence you feel.

So in the end you wipe your eyes,

And whatever is coming from your nose,

Just to lay back waiting for sunrise,

Remembering why you no longer wish for dreams.

October Writing Challenge: Day 17

“Hold fast to dreams 

For if dreams die 

Life is like a broken-winged bird 

That cannot fly.”

-Langston Hughes 

It might seem like such a cliche. Don’t give up persevere, blah. But to me, it’s so poetic, immediately when I read this I see the imagery of it. It’s so short yet so descriptive. 

It’s fairly straight forward, Hughes says that we must hold on to our dreams. If we do not then life is as about futile as bird without flight. A bird who is physically pained trying to do what is meant to do. That is the same as a person, without dreaming there is no meaning. It’s in our nature to dream, we get so down on ourselves without dreams. 

I guess there are the exceptions similar to a flightless bird. But even as a pessimist, a person will always end up dreaming otherwise we will get nothing done. 

It’s simple yet effective.

Too Young To Give Up, Too Cynical To Dream  

One of my closest friends is experiencing the first time in her life a lack of ambition. She has no plan and her dreams that once were are now gone. In order to battle her lack of morale she asks others what they’re dreams are. Insight, motivation, any would do for her. 

When she asked me and it dawned on me I have no dreams. It’s never bothered me. I’d rather be stuck in the now and worry about the future when it comes. I simply told her, “I have no dream. I’m just trying to get by.” At this moment of time just living is hard enough so I’ve never looked to the future. It doesn’t bug me that I dont have a dream. Either way, no matter what we do we are gonna wake up at 40 thinking that we haven’t achieved anything, so why set myself up for failure?

For me, I’m looking for a job. So far I’m unsuccessful but im still in university. My lack of dream doesn’t mean I’m not going to try. My dream will come to me. Maybe. Most probably not. 

At this moment of time I still don’t really care. 

Writing Challenge: Day Five

Day Five- Write about a dream or nightmare that you’ve had. Turn it into a short-short story.

I’ve had some pretty weird dreams but one particularly stuck out.

It was the strangest thing, waking up before your alarm especially when you are as lazy as me. I stretched out my arms and legs, whilst turning to see out out the window. Through the window there was no sun inhibiting the sky but it wasn’t dark either. Instead the sky was red, blood red. The sky was bleeding.

I reached to my dresser to grab my phone to check the time. The sky was probably a weird shade like this from an odd sunrise combined with pollutants. It was dead, I had it fully charged before I fell asleep. My dad’s old analogue watch was in my dresser, it read 10.01. “Fuck”, I said under my breath. My mum would be pissed if she heard me. I’m already late for work, I didn’t look in the mirror or putting my phone on charge.

I scrambled out of bed and hurried to my closet where I pulled out a bunch of clothes and picked out any that looked barely presentable. I ran to the bathroom and quickly grabbed my toothbrush and washed my face, still not checking the mirror because I knew I wasn’t presentable.

No one was home. If you have three siblings then they tend to make a lot of noise, especially on Saturday. They play their tv shows or music really loud, something that constantly has the neighbours complaining.
On a usual Saturday my parents wake us all up to eat breakfast together. It’s always a disaster but we continue to do it every week. It concludes with me rushing to work.
However, on this Saturday, no one was home. They didn’t tell me, didn’t wake me, they didn’t even leave a note on the fridge.

I walked around the house not noticing before how my footsteps echoed when I walked on the wooden floor. They house look dull today not like a home. There was dust, a lot of dust even though mum was very concerned with keeping it clean (okay, she was totally OCD). Nothing in the house had changed but it seemed as if no one had been living in it, it was dirty, cold and empty.

I rushed out of the house because the house was freaking me out. I had to get air, maybe I’ll see a familiar face I thought and they’ll know where everyone is. I looked at the outside of my house; the paint was peeling, the drive was overgrown with weeds there was rubble on the path. My house was the only one that was familiar.
There were no other houses around, they were there when I went to sleep and now there is nothing. There are some pieces of technology and rubble scattered but other than that is nothing. Nothing and no one.

There was no mum. No dad. No little sister. No big brother. And no little brother. There was only me. I trudged back into the house. From there I learnt that there is no electricity, obviously. No running water. No food. And nothing to do. There were no answers to my never ending questions.

I saw something blinking from the corner of my eye. A device that plays videos with a small percentage of battery remaining. I was so surprised something worked, curiosity and anxiety spiralled through my body. Then I pressed play.
“Honey”, it was mum, her voice, it was really her. “I’m so sorry, honey, but they said that we couldn’t take you. We are really are sorry but they’ll keep you safe and well be back for you soon. Real soon. If you are listening, we love you. Our love will always reach you no matter where we are. We are never too far. We’ll be there soon to explain it, until then hang tight.”
My dad’s voice chimed in, a unfamiliar tone. His voice low and cracking. “Your mother said it, baby. But you’re strong so use that. Use your brain and don’t do anything stupid, just wait for us.”
It panned to my brothers and sisters all saying their goodbyes. Or goodbyes for now. They were no longer here though. Before it could finish it cut off. The stupid device died.

I don’t know what’s out there and I don’t know what’s going on. But I’ll survive until they come back. Because they will. They promised.

Back to Reality

“I believe that you’ve created a metaphorical universe in which you can express your darkest fears. In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves, and sometimes we do such a good job, we lose track of reality.”
— Laurie Halse Anderson (Wintergirls)

Reality. That’s it. It’s harsh, cruel but undeniably beautiful. This is where the memories happen, the good times and unfortunately also the bad. It has emotion, feeling, everything to do about anything.

People can be dreamers, realists, optimists, whatever. Overall, there is still the real world.
People can dream. They may never get famous. Or rich. They may never get married. Or have kids.

What’d do you want? Because there are some people who do get it. Even those who don’t, who is to say they are not happy. Maybe those who got what they wanted aren’t happy because they haven’t appreciated it, they’ve never worked for it and always want more.

It’s what you make it, no matter who you are you need an aspiration. Sure for some it’s easier but you still have to try. It would be even worse thinking what if.
Reality isn’t bad, reality is what you make it.

Now honestly what do you want?
I know this is tacky, but I choose happiness.