All Dreams Must Die to Become Realities
The dream is a vision - a living imagining - where the blended contents of reality stream on another plane of physics, a different experience of time. So begins inspiration, love, visionary genius. It isn’t only for those coming of age, youthful aspiration or folly, but one can meet-cute fate at any phase of life: that breath suddenly taken-in, the feeling of truth and potential, energy and strength, uplift. You can live on that. It feels as if you can live on that forever - you can make a life on that.
Adversity, reversals, set backs in the cruel cruel world, shambolic civilization, systemic traps; all this (depending on your momentum) gets treated as merely being in the way of inspiration, the dream: keep going, keep going. But it’s reality staring you down.
Toys and tools float the same way through the aether. There is no gravity.
Back on earth, there comes a time to resign the dream or discover its substance. What does it mean to live a dream other than to accept its daily life? - toil, sweat, the grind. Pain of existing. No illusions, do the work. Daily life is always chop wood/carry water and ineludible responsibility. A dream used as an escape gets you nowhere.
After all, if dreams are achieved, they become realities, and reality is mundane: the ups and downs and grit and boredom of the nothing new each day - you’re living the dream.
What now, what next? From inside an undifferentiated instant, volition! Destiny!
Exactly One Year Ago Today
Corrupt SCOTUS, Dobbs. The war on women is inseparable from the war on democracy - not to mention attacks on science and public health. Misogynistic poison, indiscriminate misanthropic toxicity. Catacombs release their gasses. No mistaking malice for religion, sulfur for incense. The pivotal issue has never been about a pious reverence for life. Authoritarian inhumanity holds nothing sacred except its frenzy for control.
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Beautiful.