3 AM high off gas

free write

I wonder do my dreams have an expiration date. If one day I would have to sift through the crud and mold behind the apple juice and half empty carton of eggs with anxious excitement,only to find an exasperated dream. Spoiled rotten by procrastination or “too much patience”. How did I forget my dreams were waiting.

I wonder if my dreams ever really expire. Like if someday I will be charged with the unbearable fate, of throwing my dreams away. Trashed along with changed minds and old perspectives. On top of some really great decisions that didn't stand the test of time or next to future plans with ex girlfriends that just don’t make sense anymore.

What caused this decay of future? Was it the complacency of present?

I wonder if perseverance comes complete with rechargeable batteries and a set of binoculars for tunnel vision on the days when we lose sight of what’s important. Can focus be strengthened with conditioning or is the purpose to get and then lose it like everything else in life. Like love, like pain, like happiness….

I wonder if at 89, wrinkled face and scorned tongue, will I still speak words of hope.  I wonder if after I’m done, will I still have more to do? I wonder if after so many years of putting faith in clumsy situations will I drop it altogether. Will my dreams spill onto the ground in a mess of a room only adding to my mental complex of not believing in anything aesthetically pleasing or first impressions or people for that matter.  Will I be forced to “clean” my dreams up for my VH1 behind the scenes look. People love a good story. correction. People love a great ending. Dreams don’t get the right amount of love and adulation until they have been manifested but without sun how do flowers grow?