Wonder. It's actually real. Sometimes I can't believe I can actually hold it with my own two hands. Thoughts can be enticing, but also screwy in their stubbornness to make you believe in the mystical. I can't discard it though, the wispy hope that wafts through my mind in the dimming light of evening. There is no ignoring the pull as my eyes split open at dawn and I see the dreams solidified.
Hope. A tricky bitch. Despite the sinking tremor of what could happen if I lean too far to the right and plummet to my emotional doom, hope keeps me barely on track. Even in the wide black lake of loneliness hope is my buoy though it taunts me with the gravity of the other side. Yet somehow it keep the muscles in my face from pulling downward even though thats the only way I want to go. Hope keeps the socially acceptable form of insanity from tying you in the inevitable straight jacket. I hope because I must, and I must because I can't imagine my life any differently than what it has given me. I hope I get to keep it.
Reality. Not so easy. The honest truth is I can't really keep anything, not forever anyway. I can't keep this moment, or this day, I can't keep my room clean and my apartment will always be filled with dog hair. Reality is life happening all around me and I don't want to waste it. I made a terrible mistake two years ago and I don't intend to repeat it. I want to make up for what I've done wrong, and I want to live life the way my path previously intended it to be. Maybe hope will keep me afloat, and my sense of true wonder will chase away the fear. Maybe, just maybe, the dreams I've always had, will become my reality.
Life can't seem to make up it's mind. Here's a lemon...now you can make orange juice, wait no...I gave you a grapefruit...go make apple juice. Kidding, it's a lemon...you still want lemonade right?