I Will Make Today The Day

I Will Make Today The Day

      I am a dreamer and a dream. Blue and gold sunlit skies urge me on through days of droopy-eyed paths. I tell myself that I can be something that the world has never seen before; the desert earth is parched and I am its quench.
      I am needed, required even, to fill the shared-conscious of humanity with silver quartz: crystal faith and sterling hope. Required to fill until the people can again feel the warmth that radiates from every windswept soul.
      I raise my eyes to the spotty scarlet sunrise, determined to move both my own and my peers' minds from the security of quilt-covered mattresses. My eyes linger on the the glass of my window for a moment before readjusting to focus on the white purity of what lies beyond the pane. The pain melts away and I rise with a navy blue boldness that shows in my skin and my smile.
      I will make today the day. The day I will quench the world.

      Each day begins this way. It is not because I have great influence, strength, or power. It is not that I truly believe that I am more important than anyone else in this populous world. It is because otherwise I will be afraid. Afraid that I am nothing.
      And I cannot start a day that way.

      I must live on in the lungs of history, be remembered with every exhale. Huddled behind piercing words and peeling paint I will live forever. Must live forever. I fear being forgotten, flee from the possibility. Yet I wallow in procrastination, watching my hours die on clocks in countless places.
      And here, with motivation lost, I end my thoughts.