The Life and Death of Dreams

Good morning, let’s go.

Change is a big, big, big fucking deal.
Some changes set us back.
Other changes move us forward.
No change sets us back.
For us to live things need to change.

Living things change:
They move, they grow, they produce offspring, they nurture.

Dreams if living, will change over time. Nobody tells us dreams are impermanent, that dreams are personal. That dreams when share live.

No, we aren’t let in on the reality that we don’t have to be dreamers to have a dream. That someone else may have been visited, but the dream was for others too.

My dreams died.

Like a stillborn baby. Hope dashed. Life snuffed out. Crushed.

I wish I were a simple motherfucker, just work and play. Just do what I am told. Just look at eh surface of the situation and assume that is how it is. Just a go along to get along.

But Dreams and nightmares live inside me.

The stillborn cries out from the grave- calling to the person I should have been. The dream newly born giving me hope. The reality that the dream could die, leaves me in a state of anxiety.

We live in a fucked up world with misguided people. Elections won and lost- dreams, wounded and murdered. Politics is a matter of life, death, and how we survive as a people. It is who will get favored, who will get left behind, who will lose their freedom, and who has the power. Politics have always mattered. We had been convinced as a class- that it is none of our business. Believing that left generations ignorant, poor, and imprisoned by a system that says you can only go this far. We need you to run our business and financial support it too.

Elections are based on dreams for our society. They are the change makers of our democracy and it is what keeps us alive. But right now I feel dead. Too many promising dreams died.

Later Gator 🐊