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Success is a strange word. It strikes many different chords creating the various tones that shape the world around us. But the certain pitch that vibrates through my very bones creates another word: Obscure. The obscurity of dreams that we may never fulfill- Obscurity that leads us to follow these dreams till only tendrils of beloved life are left holding us rooted to the path before us. Only then are we free from the bonds that constrict us to our mortal world. Once those childish imaginings are abandoned or those mature calculations of the future fulfilled are we able to slowly wither in our flesh, just a skeleton in a cracked sun baked piece of parchment, captured by the hand of death- This face which lurks just beyond the sight of mankind.
What I see is what I comprehend. But the abstract idea of something else leading me through life is too tantalizing. I would like to believe these dreams, hopes for the future, are what steer me through life but I know only too well that these are only the wishes of a fearful child. As everyone around me, I once was a child- a young spirit still ripe with age- yet to realize my own mortality. I was a child, as all children seldom think of the future. Their pure innocence leaves them to enjoy life as it is but the day they fret about the future is the day they leave their childhood behind. That day only seems to have come too fast.
The mind of a calculating adult wins over a smaller, more childish part of me, most times. But that fraction that still lingers inside me holds those wicked memories. Those remembrances that sparked dreams in a young mind; the altered reality seen through a young eye which created these obscure images of the future.
Even now, in my fifteen years of life, I still hold onto these obscure dreams with the compassion of a lover. Gripping that small fraction of me that tames hope, I follow these dreams no matter how silly or childish they may seem to the inspecting eye. Here, inside me, there is a war building. As I slowly step over the threshold of adulthood, these images snag, rip, are pulled from my heart. But something compells me to pull back, grip those sweeping tendrils of childhood with all my might.
Success, to me, is keeping your dreams close at hand and never putting them aside for a second; to keep these wishes no matter how foolish or childish others think they may be. The obscurity of your dreams can lead you far, just as long as you listen to their soft whispers that once painted glorious pictures in your young mind.
 Midnight Visitors · Thu May 07, 2009 @ 12:47am · 0 Comments |
