I can easily trick myself into denial, but usually a superficial form of
denial, which means I simply stop pronouncing the word the notion of
which I think I should be dubious about by reasoning, which normally
involve those, mostly positive, with more or less extravagant tones, (I do say fabulous, fantastic, amazing quite often, but only for the sake of expressing an exclamation without bothering to define them.), e.g. dream. I use dream in its basic literal sense neutrally as in "I had a dream last night. I dreamt of a speaking dog." etc., whereas figuratively or metaphorically I might mention nightmare but seldom dream
referring to the future as something aspirational or hopeful, and
facing the optimist friends shouting out "I am a person with dreams (to
achieve)!", annoyed and nauseated is usually what I feel, which is
paradoxical, since I've discovered that I am the type of creature which
feeds on dreams. I know some say the more zen attitude is to focus on
the "now" and the dependence on the future can be as heavy a burden as
that on the past, and that we may enter a less troubled state of mind
with less desires, but I am not able to do so, or am I not old enough to
be that serene? Anyway, I see desire more of a friend than an enemy
that the miseryfree fearfree desirefree comfortable time was a threat to
me, because there was nothing to want. However, along time, as so many have repeatedly filled the contents of dream with what I've been busying myself to escape to a point I no longer feel it relevant, I did not realize that from the very beginning the hue of my perception of the world was set by the dream by someone who cosseted me in a way my parents would not even do.
She never told me what to do, what goal to achieve or who to become,
which I wouldn't have understood anyway, but simply patched my sails and
sharpened my wings and then pointed afar and said, "go". I don't know
if I should thank or blame her, thank her for the unusual road I've
traveled and still on, blame her for having to deal with moments of
being lost. All that written, I know I am being unreasonable to hold
someone responsible for what I've been experiencing, which I myself find
surprising, but I guess I just miss her so much and cannot neglect the
joke that she who started my dream did not hold on to hers. Somehow, I
do not want to continue lingering in the wreckage of the ship, because
for those which are still sailing, there are still storms to come for
which one should prepare for. I know my discomfort with a word cannot be
changed overnight but the realization that the rejection of the
signifying does not imply that of the signified can be quite
deliberating and that not naming something does not mean my denying to
its existence which I never stop sculpturing, so next time I should give
some extra thought about whether my whole vision is really that somber.
