Catching Dreams

Once upon a time I was like you, an aspiring writer. I spent hours writing on anything I could, paper, walls (Landlord Not Happy), the bus, me, my clothes, everything. Then something strange happened, I caught a glimpse of my dreams, and I was off like a greyhound on the hunt. I was running so hard, I didn't notice how my life kind de-evolved. Family posted "Have you seen me?" posters all over town, my boss filed a missing persons report and the local coffee shop that I frequented closed down. My favorite secondhand book store sold the old chair I always sat in, the other customers couldn't bear to see it empty. My world fell apart and I was nowhere to be found.

Then one day I caught my dreams. Words flowed from my pen, Shakespeare would have cried to read them. People flocked to hear me speak about my books, articles and snazzy fashion sense (see eccentric). Oh they were glorious, so much better than I had thought they would be. Rich vibrant I was quite taken with myself and my dreams.

Until an unguarded moment when I surfaced from my world within, I caught a glimpse of a monster in the mirror and realized it was me. My curly glossy hair was knotted and snarled, oily and the smell, yuck. A used up pasty bag of bones. I forgot to bathe, forgot to eat, forgot to wash clothes, forgot the entire world. Because I was so wrapped up in the world and life in my head. Those dreams that had been so rich and vibrant had sapped my life and those I held most dear from me. Now those same dreams were flat crumbling visions from a euphoric daydream overdose.

So let this be a lesson to you chase your dreams, and one day you may be rewarded by catching them but don't become so consumed by them that you forget the real world and the people that matter.