Just like that, I let it go. All of it. Soon enough I realised that living in my dreams wouldn’t alter my reality.
And I couldn’t keep waiting for the sun to rise and chase away the loneliness. I couldn’t wait for the success I believed I deserved, to be handed to me in ridiculous novelty cheques. Most significantly I couldn’t keep waiting for you to realise that maybe one day, if I became smart enough, and pretty enough, that you would find a way to love me.
It was all hopeless, hopeless and perpetually disappointing.
And after a while, no matter how long you hold out for it; you learn that some dreams were never meant to be chased, were never meant to manifest into a reality. And whoever you are, eventually you decide that you don’t really want the company of strangers bodies to bandaid your loneliness, you don’t want the success that you didn’t earn, and you sure as hell no longer want to continue loving someone who didn’t ever have the desire to want you back.
So just as quickly as they appeared, all the hopeless dreams that I had clung onto for so many years, were gone.
And just like that, I let it go. All of it. And I found my way again.
Go. Run. Run like hell and keep on going. You only get this funny old trip once, so stop moping, stop doubting, stop making excuses. No matter what anyone tells you, you’re always allowed to make changes, to grow, to be better. And no matter how many times you’ve made the same mistake, you’re always allowed to say once more “Never again”. So get the hell outside and be thankful that your body is willing and able – be thankful for the sunrise, and the shitty job that pays your bills, even if your manager is an ass and your hangover feels like a category 9 earthquake in your skull – you should be so lucky to be able to indulge in something to the point that it makes you ill. Remember to count your blessings – no really, wake up in the morning & count them, keep a tally; watch your life roll over from good, to great, to god damn, fucking excellent. You only get to live - to be you - exactly as you are right now, once. Don’t waste days, don’t waste food, and don’t waste your friends, jobs, relationships, opportunities or your emotions. If you ever feel sad, then be sad; cry like hell – howl at the moon and curse the stars for burning if need be, but for god sake, don’t feel things in halves. What’s the point? So smile at strangers, tell people how wonderful you think they are and that you love them, tell yourself you’re a goddamn unstoppable force and take control of your life. Watch how perfectly the desires you seek begin rushing like tidal waves to the forefront of your existence. Experience everything, explore – learn as much as you possibly can and then go ahead and learn even more. Inhale every moment and always remember to seek the silver lining – don’t be a victim, don’t pity yourself – that’s boring, and too common. Don’t be common. Whenever the world deals you a tough hand, search for the lesson; the opportunity to grow and bloom into the beautiful wildflower you were made to be. Don’t be complacent with your dreams, or your self worth – ever. Remain open and grateful, and stop shrinking yourself into the palms of strangers who will only love you for the night. This is your life; make choices for your self, is this exactly where you want to be? No? Then go. Run. Run like hell and keep on going.
I never liked shoes, or baths, or using cutlery, even as a kid.
Things that came between, that blocked, that cleaned me of the earth.
I never liked houses, or wardrobes, or the feel of cold cement on my feet.
Things that promised solidity, permanency, bills.
When I was small I had a handmade book held together with string.
It contained every blueprint to the houses I would one day live in –
buses, tree houses, boats.
It held a mapped out travel itinerary of all 143 countries
I would hitchhike through when I was no longer a ‘captive’ child,
and a (not so) appropriate “adventure budget” of two million dollars - I was seven.
I would ask my mother to let me runaway and not cry for me,
Because my need for freedom, quickly surpassed my need for love
(except my mothers, I knew I’d have hers wherever I went).
I would dream up adventure, create it, demand it.
At seven years old, I knew the desires of the adult within.
What I’m telling you is to listen to your seven-year-old self.
They were ruthlessly fierce with the dreams you still hold dear at night.