A Rainy Day's Dreams

I know my greatest struggles: the ones I have wrestled now for years beyond comparison. I know the deepest pain and sorrow that plagues me endlessly; it is well recognized. The lonely aroma of silence is heavy and thick; the magazine-frenzy aspirations and unreachable dreams… together unite in me an uncanny misery, an unbelievable weight upon me. The demons of past living I’ve grown accustomed to and have been able to bear—it is this new test that overwhelms me: this possible new direction and the embrace of a seemingly impossible future. So where to go next? What steps to properly take? It is a delicate matter, is it not? Or is fate easier that what it seems? It requires meetings I wish not to have, sacrifices I am too afraid to give… aye, me. Aye dios mio…

Life is odd. The people passing by me are muddled, preoccupied with death. We are vessels with our own tales, storybooks bumping each other on the street, rarely ever flipping our pages for one another. Human eyes see flesh and blood in symbols and signs—never as stories and experiences too valuable to go by unshared. When will we learn to appreciate each other? Our minds are filled with cell phones and computers, flashy cars and the stock market—we care nothing about the privileges of existence. The privileges of existence… privileges but complete pointlessness at the same time. There is no point to this life, no permanence. All returns to the dust that once formed it; our efforts are in vain though we refuse to see it. So why be consumed with the aroma of suburbia? What profit does it really bring save the brainwashing of a population? The cycle of life is so short, so sporadic. The animal kingdom is wiser than ours will ever be. They are enrolled in the school of phaseology—the transition from one phase to another; humans are so grounded in permanence.

Copyright © 2003 by Melanie Faith