29 Sep Dreams From My Summer
It was strewn all over the floor after we had celebrated a victory well deserved. We had jumped the mountains higher than required and cheated death a few times. We were special, just like everybody else that had overcome before as we had.
They flowed out of our minds in no particular order. After all, who dreams chronologically? The essence of imagination is that liberty; that you can ride on unicorns over the rainbow as you view the entire world. Or you could instantly cure headaches such as world hunger and corruption with a snap of your fingers. You write those ideas down and buy a pretty planner for that cause as well.
You will have to agree with me that this one was ceremonious. We wore party hats and blew vuvuzelas as we opened every gift of a new day. Especially that first week. That deceiving feel of perfection choked the sense out of you, until you realized this cycle has been happening for centuries. This 24-hour cycle. And oh so gradually, the party stops and that celebratory mood is neatly tucked away.
So you still do remember how Utopian your imagination had become. That anything was impossible as long as you put your mind to it. That the world was at your fingertips and you had everything you needed to get to the top. Yes, until she playfully coiled your hair and made you talk to her for hours on end. Until he winked at you severally and slowly lifted your head by the chin every time you blushed and looked down. You flirted a number of times and you gave in. “Fine, I’ll just be the bare minimum”, you said. “It’s not as if we were all meant to be at the top. If I have enough to get by, I suppose I’ll be okay.” Among other nuisance talk.
We still had a portion of our self-drive intact and so we did a bit of what we had planned to do. Or at least, something that would prevent us from chastising ourselves too much after we realize that we did not even fulfill a third of our dreams. We tied a few knots here and there and for a moment it felt ;like we were going back to our dreamer plans until we slipped again.
There’s nothing to write about here. It’s all in the past and it’s far gone. You probably wouldn’t want me to shame you oh too bluntly and since I cannot caress you with your sins, I shall leave this to be your moment of silence.
The lawyer told you that you should always plead innocence until proven guilty. That you kill your conscience. That someone must prove that you stole the mangoes because the mango peels in your kitchen dustbin could be genetically modified bananas. Science can do anything these days. And so you pay a lot of money for any brave soul that dare appear before you and confirm to you what you did. That you betrayed your destiny for the fun of today but you were justified. You do not know if you will be alive tomorrow. But I hear you confessing that beneath your breath. Your conscience is still alive.
So when the days drew closer and summer was almost over, only the two of us knew what you had done. You cursed your conscience and reported him to the pillow. Saying how he never warned you loudly enough. And even if he did, he should have grabbed your hand and made sure that you did not go astray. But he failed you, and that’s why whatever happened, happened. Bring that rod and let us give your conscience thorough beating.
A new one. This time with a different beat, in a different colour and same old you.
Counter fear with insane courage. There’s only so much that can happen after you decide to step out of shell. Once you take the baton, run with it. Run looking forward. Let those behind worry about themselves. Unturn every stone, knock on every door and step onto every stage. You now know how suffocating it feels to regret even though this is the umpteenth time.
And yes, I was speaking to me too.