Shelved Dreams

May 26, 2003


The way things change, I can never predict, and all those verses devoted to shelved dreams, what to do with them now? I think I should never want to be there again, there in the dark, there on the edge, there on the brink of disappointment, but yet “back in the day” always seems extraordinarily perfect when the future is at hand. Here I am in an unknown life losing interest, losing perspective, losing optimism, losing faith, losing friends, losing face, losing. Chipped away from the aftermath of adolescence and baptized in the youthful idealism and carelessness of young adulthood, I am now left with hasty decisions and pessimism. At least I am aware of inevitable outcomes and glorified fantasies not meant to be acted on. I am certainly aware of discarded aspirations, but without misguide goals and childhood dreams, what else is left? I suppose I should find a husband, have some kids, get life insurance, and prepare for death like any normal citizen of society, but I’m not ready to settle in for a lifetime. I still dream big. I still want.

We venture forward moving further and further away from one seemingly important time freeze. Handcrafted land markers are set forth behind each celebrated step, and then they are replaced and repeated.

I am not above the remaining portions of mankind, but as we gather together in a blind attempt to capture or expel something more than what is obvious, we finally surrender to ignorance and welcomed defeat. I am now standing on the outskirts of a remodeled future, but you know as well as I know that the future never really arrives – a mirage in disguise. Void of spring showers, and as a dangerously dry summer hangs heavily above our heads, I look to the start of hurricane season for release. Conversations about the weather and record high temperatures remind me of when I ventured outside of this metropolis and headed for higher ground. A retreat to the mountains where I used to be a stranger, introduced an entirely different lifestyle far removed from surf boards and seagulls – far removed from humidity and hurricanes. But the cold was bitter and the wind set fire to my exposed ears. I was ill prepared for summer snow storms. Intoxicating, nonetheless, how drastic is change when miles are conquered. The remaining portions of mankind extend to regions of the earth where I could never in one lifetime venture to see, and perhaps those less familiar with the modern world could explain to me the equation for importance. Perhaps I am much too complicated to understand simplicity. Have we grown stagnant throughout the course of growth, and since the period of those enlightened, have we advanced in our thoughts? Stationed among intellects and aspiring minds, I look for traces of individuality I admire and strive to accomplish as best to my ability, but it occurred to me that I fail to make connections in my attempt to socialize because strangers are often intimidating and friends are sometimes nothing more than acquaintances.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist