Dreamchaser

I'm sure many, if not all of you have been in this position before; the position of where there is something that you want to happen. Your dream. Be it love, a goal in life, a cause; whatever. There as many dreams as there are people on the planet.

And when do you give up?

I ask this question, simply because it has preyed on my mind in various forms for what seems like an eternity. When do you give up? When do you realize that the other person isn't going to see anything more in you than a friend; that you don't have the skills or the physical requirements to achieve the goal in life; that you are fighting a lost cause and all the roads lead to defeat?

When do you give up?

The two extremes aren't very satisfing. One says, "Don't give up." This is the realm of the true romantic, the true idealist, something that was beaten out of me by life. I can't see myself giving up everything for the dream; especially when the dream is so nebulous sometimes you need a microscope to see it. No matter how powerful the dream world, we all have to deal with reality. It's in reality that we deal with our dreams, make them true.

But the other extreme is even worse. "Don't dream." Death would be perferable. Because that's what this alternative is. A form of death. How can one have hope if one can't even dream of a better place?

And like everything else in the world, we end up with a powerful duality. Either extreme isn't very good. One denies reality, the other makes reality too real.

When do you give up?

I feel like a child of two worlds; I have no idea which side to turn toward. I have seen too much of reality to live with idealistic romanticsism; and I have seen too much idealistic romanticisim to ever be satisfied with reality as it stands now. I have tried both extremes, and have only ended up feeling frustrated.

I am overstating the case slightly; I have had dreams come true. But there are others, both past and present, and they do nothing but drift, a mist in the shadows. Tenuous ideas that float back and forth. Mists that refuse to solidify, and yet refuse to go away.

Like many other things that have been seen on these pages, we do not have white, and we do not have black. We have grey.

We have the playgrounds of the Dreamchasers.

Playgrounds for people like me and you.