Time. Wasted. Time.
Location
I’m lost.
I know that much.
For what I can remember I only wanted one thing.
A chance.
I want to break away.
To be something new.
There has to be a way.
I hear it now.
To my left.
A voice.
Mine.
There it is again.
What am I saying?
“Dreams.”
One. simple. word.
A word upon which fates are hung.
A word that strips a person bare.
Nothing left.
I have nothing left to give.
Even so, I can’t stop.
Not now.
I can feel it.
I can taste it.
It’s right there in front of me.
I reach out my hand, but…
There is nothing.
I’m still too far to reach.
But I know I’ll try again.
It’s what I do.
It’s all that I do.
I hear another voice.
It’s not mine.
My mother?
She tells me,
“It takes time.”
“You will be the one.”
But I’ve wasted my time.
Haven’t you?
That’s all we are really.
A collection of fragments.
The moments you look back on.
That time you watched TV.
Instead of doing what you love.
Distractions.
Then I hear it.
The noise I’ve been waiting for.
Music.
It’s faint.
As if I’m at the bottom of a deep hole.
The melody floats down to me.
I recognize this.
It was the song playing when I realized.
I want this.
Time.
Wasted.
Time.
What can I do?
There’s no going back now.
I’m stuck.
The floor turned to quicksand.
No one around.
No one watching.
No one caring.
I wish.
I wish I was the one.
The one who could make it.
The one who was happy.
The one who didn’t have to settle.
Dreams.
A word that has a meaning which we have all been taught is impossible.
Not directly.
No one tells you dreams don’t come true.
But we know.
We know the odds.
11%.
9%.
4%.
1%.
And they all.
Fall.
Down.
.
Hope.
That’s all we have in the end.
Hope that the end doesn’t happen before our start.
Hope that we get a chance.
Hope that we matter.
One job.
The difference between joy and regret.
Time.
Wasted.
Time.