Side Tracked

It's just so easy to get sidetracked and despondent about getting sidetracked and begin to wonder what the hell I'm even doing it for because no one is ever going to read it anyway and I should be doing more meaningful things with my life, like working a steady nine to five to get off my parent's assistance and stop being a drain on those around me and stop selfishly making my life be all about my dreams and my aspirations. When these thoughts claw their way up into my conscious mind, I always try to take the time and diligence to put them lovingly back down where they belong. Bitching and moaning from the side-room where I don't have to acquiesce any power over to them. They sure do like to flex their volume sometimes, though.

When is a dream too much of a dream? Is there a point where it just becomes too foolish? Or is that when it really becomes a test of faith? When I feel utterly ridiculous talking to others about it because I still have no idea in the Universe how this dream is going to become a reality, is that when it's time to say enough is enough and retire back into the little life of the human who gets her shit together and stops dreaming such insane notions and begins to focus on realistic outcomes whose steps can be carefully and safely plotted out like any of a thousand trips to the grocery store for a loaf of bread?

I've never been known to choose the safe path over the desired path. Sometimes they are just one in the same. But sometimes, sometimes they are not. Sometimes they aren't even on the same map. And I feel so alone. With only those around me who cast scornful looks and reek of disdain for my foolhardy notions of following a path that is unmappable and unpredictable and there I am, vulnerable. Not sure if I really want to travel this path anymore, but certain that I do. Just a little more courage, Becky. Just a little more strength. There is a world of your dreams and you know it's not Here. Just as a baby, who dearly loves the womb in which it grew, knows the journey goes on from that womb and staying there would only impede further growth.

I don't know how many times I've re birthed versions of myself so far this life, but I can tell you each one I was willing and thankful for all it brought me, and continues to do so. Let the despondency fuck off. Let the side of the track still be as useful to me as being on it, for if it is the way I operate, may it also be the way I get shit done. I have these dreams. I have these goals. And no authentic part of me wants to give them up or walk away from them because I'm afraid. I'll take that fear right on through with me. Because that's the only way I'll stop the dream, when it is my reality.