Photo: flickr.com | Lissi Elle

I had this wild dream last night.

A wake you up in your sleep
Shake your reality beyond belief

Kind of dream
That shifted and drifted from
Obscene to intrigue
To revelations
Unforeseen

Soon to become an idea

Perchance an epiphany

That I could do whatever the **** I wanted with life.

That I could take this heart of mine
This unrelentless, hopelessly romantic, thrill seeking heart of mine
And share it with the world.

That I could travel to the earths most obscure places, sleep in the most insecure spaces and enjoy the most unusual lovers sweet foreign embraces

Yes it is true

I had this fantasy
Rather a series of neverending fantasies
And since mainstream society so sheepishly condemns us dreamers
I diligently edited my fantasies into

One, five and ten-year goals

Into bucket lists

Into various versions of socially acceptable success.

In the early daze
The fantasies they drifted away
While i followed the path… most followed.

I flew through university to grad school to the achingly
Painstakingly
Horrors of office desk duty

To salaried success
And oh lord I never knew
How it could be that
Being “comfortable” as they always told me to be
Could turn out
So
Damn
Uncomfortable.

So I jumped ship
No
Dear friends

That’s a wretched lie

I ship hopped
Year after year
Searching for some way to live
Outside the way

They kept telling me to live
Found myself hitching rides of pride
With socialist youth through
A latin coup

Caught myself hiking high
Into shamanic skies with strangers
That would never deny
That life is nothing
If it is not a wild ride

Caught myself loving hard
Renting cars and cruising boulevards

Playing princess
Artist
Yogi
Writer
Creator
Business trader

Caught myself
Playing this life
Like it is nothing but an awkward little guise
Like the kind of rollercoaster
Made during the war
Of rickety wood
And artistic gore

Like poetry
Writ by socialist shit
And waterfalls washing
Away the literate

Caught myself cruising
Another world unknown

Only this time its different
This witch aint alone

No no no

She’s grown
From the adolescent unknown
To the childlike lady now sitting on a throne

Conformity overthrown with a simple shift in tone.

 

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Assistant Ed.: Stephanie Sefton/Ed: Bryonie Wise