"The invariable mark of a dream is to see it come true." - Ralph Waldo Emerson
The raging thunderstorm inside was too much to handle. I kept on fighting the winds only to fall back on where I started. My eyes were all blurry with the strong gust and rain falling on my face. Everywhere I saw were dark clouds hovering closer and closer..
It was getting dark.
Just then the wind stopped. Was the worst over? Or was this the uncomfortable calm just before the storm. I was nervous and yet anxious. I didn’t know what lay in front of me and yet I didn’t want to know that either..and yet I had to.
I stood there for a moment and then dashed forward, quickening my pace. From the corner of my eyes I could see lightning flash across the horizon. I held my belongings close to my heart and kept walking, eyes firmly on the ground.
I was immersed in the petrichor all around and for a moment a faint smile was all what I had.
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I called out for someone, anyone. The silence was all what I got in return. The silence of the world when the wind stops, was all what I got in return. Like dead leaves getting crushed under me, my dream was collapsing on me…The weight of my emotions was too much to handle..to carry.
And then, it rained.
I turned around. I saw clouds of rain slowly making their way towards me and I just couldn’t outrun them.
Yes! My dream was collapsing..and fast!
Dreams don’t play by your rules, it’s the other way round. It is just the feeling that matters. When you are in a beautiful dream, just when you are enjoying it, it ends...It vanishes. And no matter how much you try to move out of a nightmare, you just can’t.
You are your own prisoner in the dreams.
It really amazes me when I see myself in one of my dreams. I just don’t like them one bit. They make me hate the world I wake up to. I just have myself in those dreams and the people who are out there to catch me.
And I am just running away from them all the time. I don’t know the reason why they are out to catch me, I don’t want to. All I care is to wake up to a world that otherwise, treats me like a step-son.
There will be a day I will stop running. There will be a day when I will face the demons, demons that held me captive my own dream. I will confront them and chase them away. There will be a day, when I will quit dreaming altogether.
That day will I be born, out of the ashes of my own dreams.
One day. Someday.