Back down on top of covers and my ceiling fan is spinning in autumn because lust is hot and my heat is on. The blades spin on the fan and my wheels begin to turn with it. Once more, the milk-dry cow cliché’ is me thinking about my life. Time and time again time has me in his clutches. Its late. November 20th has come and gone and I am another year older. I blew the candles out on the cake and made a wish.
She went home and I will sleep alone. I am at liberty with a bachelor pad and a lifestyle that only caters to me, myself and I. I’m good, aren’t I? Moonlight shines in and wonder if on some side of that there is a “one” that I will meet one day. This is not a love story though. I’m heart -broken and I’ll lay here putting my pieces back together, and I’ll think about me. Not anyone else, just me. Rather selfish, wouldn’t you say? I am the guy with his running shoes on chasing his dreams. I have a new crush every other week. I over-analyze and I wonder and I ponder possible omens from the gods. That wish I made when I blew out the candles, I won’t tell because I want it to come true. Kicking myself. I am thinking about how I have been so idealistic over the past few years and perhaps too much so; maybe I’m not realistic enough. I am thinking about doubt.
It’s beginning to hurt but I can’t stop. I am sinking -- drowning even—in the thought that I have missed my calling or I skipped a step. I start thinking that all this dream chasing shit is for the fucking birds and maybe I just need to get comfortable with pushing papers and pressing keys in a cubicle. How I wish I knew then what I know now, at least I would have more time to put the knowledge to use. I’m not getting no younger! I’m becoming irate and rather frightened. My eyes tighten and my breath shortens. I am panicking. But before its said and before it’s done, I’ll change my approach. Chasing dreams is easy, I suppose it’s what most people do in their own way but what if I traded in the running shoes for a hammer and nails and I began building the dream.
What if I put flesh to my ideas and made these dreams come true simply by working rather than playing this game of “hurry up and wait”? What if I made it definite that there was no defeat? There is no waiting for a sign. You don’t wait for the call but it’s not a numbers game any longer. You do it, you’ll get it. All the if’s turn to when’s and that’s when loses turn to wins. Time is boxing but he has one short hand, so when I punch the clock, I just stick and move. I am AMAZING. The doubt begins to crack and I start to sink into a peaceful sleep.
Oh and as for that dream girl, tell her grab a seat. I keep a big broom, I came to sweep you off your feet.
