i feel as though my dreams have lost their sparkle and the road in front of me has split into a hundred little paths. i am stuck on a carousel that spins for as long as time lasts, my hands glued to the pole. the future is a gaping mouth that threatens to swallow me whole. when i imagine my life seven years later i always see myself different to who i am in the present — my hands are unburdened and my eyes are not cloudy, but full of stars. i am glamorously confident. certainty laced into my walk, a bright smile on my face. i think of tropical islands and cities covered in snow. dusty evenings and naked feet on wooden floorboards. the sound of an orchestra tuning their instruments. music cascading down upon my ears like a waterfall.
images of the unknown: things i have yet to experience. only dreams — unless i find a way to escape the cycle of doubts. but how do i cross over the rainbow when my feet are too heavy? they say there is a cauldron of gold at the other end but no one has ever found it yet. maybe it does not exist. many give up before they even start to try. they stop believing, and stay confined inside the substantial world, never venturing beyond. but what if it really exists, and we have just not yet discovered a way to reach the rainbow and cross its luminous arc? what is it like to accomplish the unbelievable? i don't know. i am too afraid to step through air and fall. i am still stuck, and the carousel continues twirling. the rainbow glitters in the sky in the horizon but i am too far away. i cannot reach it.
8.3.18
