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.

Perhaps They are Necessary

Most days are laughing days.
Sometimes singing days.
And occasionally a dancing day.

Every once in a while, though, I have a "What If" day.

"What If" days are the days when everything you see has a tint of gray in it.
They are serious.
Everything is serious.

They are the days when you look back and think,
"Have I wasted my life away?"
"Am I wasting my life away?"

You listen to others talking about their victories.
Their struggles and their pains and think,
"Why don't I have any triumphs to share?"

It's on those days that you wish that you could be someone else.

You'd be your best friend.
Your role model.
Even your worst enemy.

Their lives seem so flawless,
with their blue love and tears.
But even as you think that, you try to remind yourself that it isn't true.

But you still like to think that their lives are perfect.
It's easier to let that thought simmer.
Stir it until it gets thick.

Thick and it gets stuck in your head.

You spend the whole night wondering.
Wondering if there's a way to go back in time.
To change who you are.

You wonder if you can change who you are now.
But it seems unlikely.
Impossible, even.

Your heart beats slower.
You can't help but hate yourself in that moment.
Tears seem imminent, but even they seem to have abandoned you.

Your eyes close.
Just for a moment, and suddenly you find yourself waking up to a ray of the sunrise.

Its warmth meanders through the curtains just to find you.
Only you.
No one else.

You wake up and everything is in full color again.
The gray?
Just a nightmare of the day before.

Perhaps those days are necessary.
Necessary to remind us that our life isn't always going to be perfect,
that sometimes you are going to feel left behind.

The next morning though, inexplicably, you always feel okay again.

Not necessarily good,
but okay.
Ready to live some more.