Life, Homework, and Dreams

We are all sitting here in our own little world, seemingly apart from everyone else. Scattered students everywhere sleeping, eating, or pounding through the homework. We connect through the learning and let it just suck us into a different world where knowledge is prominent. It works that way, to change our lives up, down, or forward. Onward to what we want. That is, if we can even figure out what exactly we even want anymore.

Crank the music and let it keep you awake, no matter how much sleep you got, or how much work you've got either. The mind whirs beneath the perfect curls, or spiky punk-do's.

It doesn't matter where you try to go. You'll get there eventually, and it's not even entirely in your control either. You have a choice, of course, but events change choices faster than force. No plan happens like planned, so why have one?


Have goals, and have goals to get to the bigger picture. But if you have set goals, do they ever really actually happen? Life seems to have a psychotic mind of its own and the ability to control and change anything you might possibly ever want. So should you ever want anything, or even plan anything, or even hope for anything, or ever set any goals if life seems to just change it to whatever it actually wants?

Is there anything or anyone that you can actually count on in this ridiculous world of zombies and walking copycats? Is everyone so out for their own that they don't stop to remember the rest? Is that how I am? We have to stand on each other's shoulders to reach the top, but sometimes they just get smashed flat instead.

Where does the end come, and the beginning start? Is there a place inside yourself that won't yell at you all your flaws, that will just appreciate you for who you are? They say that you are amazing, but how could everyone possibly be amazing at the exact same time? And in that case, would it even really matter? If we're all worth everything, are any of us even worth anything?

The mountain just seems to keep growing, and you sometimes start to wonder why you ever started trying to climb it. The fall off of it would hurt more though, so you keep climbing. Always looking for a hand to help pull you up through the rocky terrain.

It doesn't matter, does it? Does it matter where you end up, or what you do, or where you go? You'll still end up somewhere. You'll still end up at the end somewhere.


So grab a vague picture of yourself that you want to become, and walk towards it. Run towards it. Some people will try to jerk it away from you. Run for it. Grab it, hold it, even if it rips, even if you're torn, don't let it go. You might have to run from those who should help you the most, but you can make it. Make it happen. Find who you are, if you can. Then don't let anyone ever take that away from you. If you have to leave, then leave. Don't put up with what you shouldn't.

You can have your dreams, if you can figure out what they are. If you do, hold onto them with all your might. Nothing will be for sure. People won't either, no matter how much they might say. You could have the world, and still hold nothing. When you're ripped apart, you can be made stronger. Sometimes you can't do it alone though. Trust someone and let them help you. But don't trust them inside you. Eventually their spike-tipped knuckles will puncture into something, whether or not they meant to.

Someday though, someone will come along that you can give everything to. The rip inside both of you will be filled with each other and you will be made complete once again, like you have wished for so long. Until then, hold it closed yourself, and watch out for the selfish greed and pride that could infect it and destroy you completely.

Sometimes people are blind and they don't see or understand. Other times they choose the color of the blindfold to tie on. Don't be deceived by a blind man leading or a deaf man singing. The words may be compelling, but the knife is real. Don't get distracted by insignificant circumstances. Life will still carry you on down the stream, whether or not you have a lifeboat.




Tara J. Howard


Copyright 2014