Bubbles Burst

My dream burst like a ’90’s internet stock

Real Estate investments brought on a recession

Crashed me down to earth like it was 1929

Just without the great depression

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Laid out bleeding and bruised, I’m no Glinda

No way to float above all my issues

Hand over hand, dig through to my core

No magic wands, no stolen ruby shoes

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When I break through the other side of this

Reaching for the sky, a tree growing from my grave

My dreams won’t shatter in the slightest breeze

They’ll dance in hurricanes like it's an ’80’s rave

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So…I took a hiatus from all the fun and joy of reading and posting on Vocal to try my hand at making a dream come true. Thus, I left with a short goodbye, drowning every kind reader in sea metaphors. So…many…sea metaphors. In relative terms, that bubble burst pretty damn quick.

I did put in some effort. I finished my script, did multiple rewrites, and I will say that I enjoy much of my own work. Not gonna lie about that. But I also know that it has a long way to go and, partially because of where I live, the only real way for me to get this script in front of anyone that could do anything with it, costs money. Not a ton, but enough if you enter contest after contest. I also sent off multiple queries, but got no traction.

On top of that…life. Life threw a curve that has eaten up nearly all my time. It was not a horrible event (others have suffered far worse), but it put many things on hold, not just my daydreams.

In the process, I’ve had to come to some conclusions about myself. First off: I love writing. I love that moment when imagination becomes something real and memorable outside myself. When a lone bastard of a phrase makes something of itself. But the second thing I realized is that I lack ambition. I lack the fuel it takes to reach for the stars.

That may sound like a “woe is me” statement. However, I think that, in and of itself, a lack of such ambition is not a bad thing. You don’t have to want greatness to be a good, solid writer who just loves what they write. One who finds joy, solace, and lots and lots of free therapy in the words spilling from their mind. There are times I think such ambition requires a sacrifice I’m not willing to make. To burn much of everything around you to keep those fires going.

Another, pettier, realization? I don’t watch many movies. I just don’t. So why the hell am I trying to so hard to write one? I enjoy the idea. I’m glad I wrote what I did. And maybe it's just a necessary step towards writing it as a novel instead. But that is another daydream for a time when life lets me breathe just a little more freely.

Along with that first realization, it also clarified that I loved writing my short stories, my poems, and posting them here. I love to read and immerse myself in the creativity of others and gain inspiration from an idea or a turn of phrase that would have never occurred to me. Why let a daydream keep me from what I enjoy in the here and now?

I still have dreams, but I think they are a little more grounded. Hopefully, I can grow them into something small and lovely. I think that would be enough for me. For now.