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The fall of dreams - Ed's journal
sobrique
sobrique
The fall of dreams
When we are children, dreams are like crystal sculptures. Delicate and beautiful. We set them on a high pedestal for others to admire, and because they catch the light and are so pretty.

Gradually though, things change. The chill wind of time blows, the harsh withering glare of reality or the crushing blow of betrayal. The fact that the world is not as we might wish it knocks the dream from it's pedestal.

It falls, and catches the light, shining with the inner light of hope. Like a star, falling from the skies. It crashes to the floor and smashes into a myriad of pieces.

Scattered across the cold stone floor.

Pieces lost.

A cruel mockery of the beauty that was.

Sometimes they fall alone, sometimes all at once. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow. But they fall. The fragments of our dreams lay scattered at our feet.

And gradually, the will returns. We scoop up the pieces, and try and reassemble those things of such rare beauty. Our best efforts are never enough.

We put them back together, and have a dream once more. Sometimes it's close to the original, sometimes it's something new entirely. But we're nagged by the sensation that maybe it's not quite complete, that perhaps something was lost forever when it fell last, or that it's not quite as sound as it might have been.

We do not set this dream so high. Maybe we are less proud, or maybe we're just a little more wary, and don't want it to fall so far. Or perhaps we don't want to set it so far out of reach.

We fear for this dream to fall, but still want to hold it high and admire the glimmering light within.

Sooner or later, this dream too will fall. And cast its pieces on the floor once more. What happens on the day that we give up?

We cannot face rebuilding these things of beauty once more. The fact that it gives us the light of inspiration is no longer enough to balance the pain brought by it's destruction.

We give up our dreams, and lay there on the floor, surrounded by the shards of 'might have been'.

Condemned by ourselves.
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Comments
mavnn From: mavnn Date: August 18th, 2004 12:48 pm (UTC) (Link)
Give me just one thing
Something to cling to
Something for me to make it
Give me just one thing
Something to cling to
Something to pray to
Give me just one thing


(Gravity Kills, "One Thing")

Because we all need that something to cling to, to pray to. Because we're not big enough ourselves and I think deep down we all know it - you might not think you need a God, but it would be a brave and foolish man who claimed he had no need of external support at all. And we don't just need it for the big things and the practical things - we need it to pick up the pieces of crystal.

Personally, I can't help believing that there is also a bigger problem. Not only are we not strong enough to support our dreams on our own - I think we're not big enough to create a dream which is not flawed. We don't have the scale of mentality it takes to encompass the greatest, most powerful, most beautiful dreams. Because, as you rightly point out, when we attempt it ourselves the dreams get more delicate as they get higher and more beautiful. But this is only true because of our limitations, not because of any weakness in the beauty.

There is a dream out there that is bigger, stronger and more beautiful than anything we could hold in our own imaginations. More complete, more detailed, more powerful, more fulfilling.

We just get too proud to look up and see what's there already. Too jealous to accept being lifted. We like to pretend that we can make something better ourselves, something that is in reach yet will still satisfy us.

And so we are condemned by ourselves. Not by our failure to achieve, but by our refusal to accept.
sobrique From: sobrique Date: August 18th, 2004 03:21 pm (UTC) (Link)
It's pride of a sort. I'd like to live my life, and on my dying day look back and see that I'd made a difference. In some way, greater or lesser, that my actions had made the world a better place.

Pride is one of the Sins, because it is a honeyed trap.

And yet, is it pride to dream of moving the world one step closer to paradise?

I don't know.

Wanting to stand on my own _is_ pride. At least one one sense. A satisfaction at the achievement of just living. Managing, growing and learning.

There are many wonderful things. I'd like to have been the source of one of them.
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