the reality of dreams

when you long for something to happen, what do you do to make it happen? i dream. sometimes i'm not dreaming of anything specific--just of a world in which my thoughts transcribe reality, like dorothy wishing that the world over the rainbow were real. doesn't that song just make you tear up? what a film. there's so much dreaming in the wizard of oz, that it makes you fall in love with all of the characters instantly, you feel so much empathy for them.

not that i believe in wishing over doing--only that i understand what it is to wish to be carried away on the air beyond the physical capabilities of the body. if i only had a brain, a heart, the nerve. i think that's why the film is so beloved--we all have something that we wished we could master more fully in our lives. the definition of living is the repetitious realization of what you want it to be. but there's always the struggle, the journey, towards it. we wouldn't be human without that.

but that's why we never feel we achieve our dreams fully--because we don't want to; what, then, would we look forward to, afterwards? because, deep down, i love that longing. i love seeing a bright point of light in the distance, a goal to run towards.

i have a recurring dream on this theme. the last time i had this dream was in february, but it seems always to be in the back of my mind, just beyond my line of vision. there's this place that i keep going back to, and it's almost like the connecticut shore, but i can't place where it is. i stand on something like a peninsula, with wide sunny streets and cheerful shops and suburban houses, and cherry blossom trees and very green grass. in one moment i'm at the end of the peninsula, where the streets fade into blue water that stretches out across the sound. in another moment, i look again and the street keeps going where the water used to be, and i know that i'm still near the beach, but the road that reaches it is now much, much longer.

i always feel slightly dissatisfied being there, even though another part of me is always at peace, content, basking in the sunshine, and i walk around picking the nicest flowers. in my latest dream of this place, however, i am on some kind of magic carpet that lets me fly up into the cherry trees to reach the blossoms that i normally can't. it's very freeing, and yet at the same time the nicest blossoms are always just out of reach–i pick what i think are the best, and then glance just beyond my fingers and see more. the game continues until i wake up, and i don't know if i feel playful or frustrated.