In an alternate universe, I will triumph. Over this sick, stale depression, that holds my faith hostage. Over the bright glare of the sun, that leaves me weak and immobile on a deserted highway. Over all the insurmountable odds that crush the underdog. I dream, but I dare not dream aloud for fear of being burnt at the stake. My failure is my salvation, the reason I exist. For they wait, ears perked up. Trying to sniff out all my thoughts and dreams. The nights are balmy and my dreams restless. I cover them up with sundry mirages of survival. It is difficult to fool them though, One whiff of it and they will pounce. And shatter every crystalline hope that I’ve built, on this cliff of dreams.
Lucidity does not become me. Yet, that is what I yearn for and work towards. Someday, I will reach there. And maybe then, I’ll be scared no longer. Of speaking my thoughts aloud. I’ll dream of everything I’ve ever wanted, in my life. Call it all to me. For a change. I am tired of running after dreams. Of pursuing them stealthily with a net, and trapping them deep within my soul. I want to set them free, watch the butterflies flutter away, in myriad colors that speak of freedom. Without worrying whether they will ever return. I want to roll on the grass, not tread softly. Watch the fireworks light up the sky with riotous abandon. I want to get drunk, drunk on life, and not sorrow. I want to trip and fall, and let the giddiness overcome me. I want to lock up all my fears, and throw them in the ocean of no-return. I want that epitaph to read, No regrets.