Regrettably sometimes our dreams feel shattered. Broken upon the shore of our hopes and most important thoughts. It isn’t always fair, but life has always been taught to us as being unfair. You can’t understand it, but you must accept it. It was on this day…this day when I felt so low that I realized that nothing and everything only matter within the scope of who you are in any given moment. You can be nothing and everything all at once and have that dream surround your entire existence, but when does it not matter anymore? Life feels very prominent as if there is too much time and yet not enough time to finish everything that your mind has imagined. Each day opens like a scene from a play. The lights are dim and the music slowly begins with a few notes growing immensely rich and full. You see a man sitting at a desk writing furiously every thought he has ever had. His pen is held tight in his hands as he scribbles notes that are only fragments of memories, but memories regardless. He looks up from his paper and asks, “Do you remember when you were a blank page?”
I wake up looking at the yellow sunlight bursting through my curtains as my alarm clock slowly ticks away. I slam the light on top of the alarm so that it may illuminate the time..It is 8:30am. I wonder if there is any point to get up. I wonder why I feel so tired, yet ready to start the day. Could it be the single rays of light lumineateing my ceiling? I don’t remember what it was like to be a blank page. My mind is full of thoughts, ideas, memories, feelings, and forgotten beauty. I remember what it was like to live. I remember what it was like to feel, but it doesn’t seem that important. The music swells swirling around in my head as I grab my phone to see no messages. I pull out my ipod to check my e-mail. There is a bunch of random letters sent to me by machines that are made to make me feel important…automated as they may be. The music still echoes throughout my memory. A flurry of strings and drums reminiscent of a movie I may have once seen. I sit at the edge of the bed looking down at the very gray carpet. I look up to see the stillness of the room. Nothing is moving..there sits a clock on my dresser, but the batteries have died. I walk to the closet to see all the colors of my life. These meaningless clothes that people see me in everyday. I have a lot of blue dress shirts and a bunch of black dress pants all hanging randomly because I don’t care if they are in any order. I lost that sense of order a long time ago. I used to be a very different person. I used to organize everything including my pens, all arranged by size and colors. I would make my bed in the morning and switch my lights on and off twice before leaving the room. It all felt so important and incredibly perfect, but now it doesn’t matter. No, today is feels like all of it was just to try to feel something- about anything. I pick up a blue shirt, but today I will wear jeans. I look into my dresser to see many sneakers. I pick something. I don’t seem to care what pair. I try to open my eyes, but the feeling is dark. The day is bright. I’m in the shower washing my hair, as the water falls it feels like life. It feels like something that I can’t very well explain. I love the scent of mint. I like feeling like maybe there is a great healing power in that scent. I let the water fall down my face. I try to think of a time when maybe dreams were important, maybe when I would pick up my pen and furiously write down every thought I ever had. I don’t have anything to feel at the moment. I don’t care about thinking about anything. I look in the mirror with my black hair sticking to my forehead and wondering how I ever got to this point. This point where absolutely everything has to be a certain way. I only like to use a certain tooth brush, I only like certain smells, I must wash my face twice. These meaningless things feel so important, but I know that they are not. I feel happy. I still don’t remember what it was like to be a blank page.
I pour some water in my eco friendly plastic canister to make some instant coffee. I enjoy the taste of cold coffee with just some milk and sugar. I don’t care for anything really strong. I like my coffee sweet. I think the sugar makes me feel good. It makes me feel joyful for a few moments. The ice swirls around the canister crackling as it slowly melts. Its life on this earth will be short lived as it is turned into water and in turn vanishes of anything that it formerly was. I sit in the car looking out the window trying to remember a time when a memory struck me as truly special. I can remember what it was like to have dreams, but I really can’t. I think those feelings are manufactured from some book I may have read of other successful people. I don’t understand what the word success means. Is there some great big sign that says you have made it, that now you are important and in turn successful. I put on my sunglasses to keep out the harsh sunlight, but also to keep the world away. They can’t see in. I feel safer not being anything. I feel better when I’m not noticed. I turn on some music that I just bought. The sounds are filling the air, but I can’t remember the words. I don’t think it matters. It makes me think about a time when maybe I could remember these things. I love how the notes string along as I hum some of the words out of tune. The traffic is the same everyday..no matter. I look at my phone again, there are no messages. I see a wallpaper of this guy holding up a peace sign. I picked this wallpaper because it seemed interesting. The guy is in black outline, it could be me. It could be no one. I think this is why I like it so much. I drive in silence. I drive with sound. I drive with my own thoughts. I can’t think of anything. I remember being a young boy with so much imagination. I can’t remember whatever happened to that voice. I used to dream about so many things. A life of great importance, until I came to the realization that importance is really what we make of it. I guess I still want to be someone like that. I really don’t. People expect it of me I guess. I could really care less if anything went beyond this point. I don’t hear anything anymore. I still don’t remember what it was like to be a blank page.
My eyes feel tired and its only 2:00pm. They feel heavy in a way that I can’t explain. It is almost as if I were to shut them that everything would just stop along with me. Time would freeze and everyone would stop. Just stop walking, talking, yelling, and yet it would be perfect. I check my phone again to see that there are no messages. I try to put on some music, but the professor begins to talk. I stare at an empty white wall. I fill that wall with color. I fill it with things that I have seen before. I don’t care about what they were or what they meant, but I just remember seeing them before. I take out my pen and write down notes from the lecture. I see the ink slowly bleed through the paper just so much as the edges are smudged. I look at my writing and think that it looks awfully small. I can barely read it and its funny how I never “saw” it like that before. I think about the last time something made me laugh and nothing comes to mind. I think about the last time I just wanted to see something interesting. I remember looking at a photo of the Eiffel tower and wanting to see the city from the top. Millions of people have seen this, yet it would still feel very special. I don’t think things are special anymore. I think I want some chocolate. I like the taste of chocolate. I like cookies. I check my phone again to see that there are no messages. The class is over and it is time to go home. Nothing else is planned at school for that day. I begin my trip back home in the silence. I still don’t remember what it was like to be a blank page.
Tomorrow the alarm rings and the day starts again. I open my eyes and stare at a white ceiling.
