Since I could dream they were filled with the desire to be remembered. Filled with a possibility of somehow being greater.
The events that follow prove to be somewhat limiting. However, being that I’m only 24 going on 25, I can see now I have time.
Previously feeling constrained by the counting seconds, I now feel something greater, time. Time for what it is.
I am in training for the attainabilty of what I know is to come. Forcibly so.
What is life but missed opportunity? I never want to feel the sting of regret. Truer then most failings, regret is so long-lasting. In memoirs we leave them to continue forward. Forward carried in the eyes and ears of our descendants.
One day, long from now, I want the wind to whisper my name. But more so, even if I was just “that one girl,” I’d be fine. For it’s what was done and the acts that are remembered that are of significance.
Being recollected is only the small of it.
Let my war cry ring from the mountains as I am now wanting my life to be mine, shared.
We are communal and in that I want us all to have these same desires.
I do have a dream and I hope I never awaken. For sometimes the dreams are greater.