recycling dreams is not a sustainable practice.
when you're done with a dream, you sing it a little song of mourning, shed a tear or two on the tube home, then you delete-reference every time a face from memory or the memory of a dream sequence plays on your susceptible mind. keep doing that for a few days, and the dream gets squashed, squished, plimped, thumped away from your life. this leaves space for new dreams and new hopes.
when dreams fail, you kill them dead; you don't put them in a box in the corner like paper, thinking you could maybe use the other side one day. you don't put used reams in a recycle bin, so that someone else puts them in a massive compactor with other dreams, to come back to you eventually as wrapping paper for presents, later in your life. dreams especially, are bad to reacquaint yourself with after you've managed to squeeze them into forgetfulness; then they are fatal. with failed dreams be very ruthless, for they are.
when dreams die and are disposed of suitably, then you can reassess things like wishes and desires and capabilities, unclouded by bright sparkly mists of dream. and enter the cycle again, for future dreams, dear as the ones you just let go, will also die, in all probability. know this.
but don't stop dreaming! if you hadn't dreamt stuff, you might as well have stayed within the confines of your earlier life, where decisions were made for you, based on decisions handed down from generation to generation. where you couldn't and didn't imagine that things could be different, elsewhere, in another way. where you were limited by the things surrounding you, particular to you only, because of which you had your particular dreams. and some dreams do come true, just not most. no, there's nothing in between not dreaming at all, and foolish brave dreaming with reckless abandon, no middle path. and, if you dream on, sing on, play on (and blog these bits on).. before you die (possibly alone, possibly not very much loved) - you can feel that you've dreamed and lived.
when dreams fail, you kill them dead; you don't put them in a box in the corner like paper, thinking you could maybe use the other side one day. you don't put used reams in a recycle bin, so that someone else puts them in a massive compactor with other dreams, to come back to you eventually as wrapping paper for presents, later in your life. dreams especially, are bad to reacquaint yourself with after you've managed to squeeze them into forgetfulness; then they are fatal. with failed dreams be very ruthless, for they are.
when dreams die and are disposed of suitably, then you can reassess things like wishes and desires and capabilities, unclouded by bright sparkly mists of dream. and enter the cycle again, for future dreams, dear as the ones you just let go, will also die, in all probability. know this.
but don't stop dreaming! if you hadn't dreamt stuff, you might as well have stayed within the confines of your earlier life, where decisions were made for you, based on decisions handed down from generation to generation. where you couldn't and didn't imagine that things could be different, elsewhere, in another way. where you were limited by the things surrounding you, particular to you only, because of which you had your particular dreams. and some dreams do come true, just not most. no, there's nothing in between not dreaming at all, and foolish brave dreaming with reckless abandon, no middle path. and, if you dream on, sing on, play on (and blog these bits on).. before you die (possibly alone, possibly not very much loved) - you can feel that you've dreamed and lived.
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