Tell-Tale Heart

We cry sometimes because the world beats you down with moments of hopelessness.  When you've been rejected your junior year of prom. When you realize you can't get good grades in everything. When you realize your photography skills are not professional enough. When you realize you've abandon your dreams for a "job."

We've forgotten the person we were suppose to be.

Majority of our parents teach us to follow simple formula: get good grades, go to college, find a career or job that will make you money.  The factor of happiness only seems to be a bonus.

And it's unfortunate that only a small percentage achieve a career that makes money and makes you genuinely happy. Not the monetary happiness of purchasing items because you can afford it but the happiness of fulfillment. The happiness of doing something you are proud to have accomplished.

It's also depressing to realize you are one of those that buried your dreams under the floorboards until you forget. However, it won't let you forget - constantly beating like a heart to remind you it's still there.

Until it realizes that studying the pattern of woodgrain is driving it insane. It misses the light.  It misses the feeling of trying. It misses being a part of you. So starts beating at a faster, more fearful pace; eventually driving you insane.

Why can't it to just go wherever dreams go to die?

Instead you can only cry because it seems like the only response.  Leaving you at your most vulnerable and most clairvoyant.

It won't go away until you take action and rip the floorboards apart to find out there's nothing there.

The noise came from your own beating heart; beating frantically at the thought of "what if?"

What if I stay where I am, chugging along like a train on a route remains the same day in, day out? What if I'm not good enough? What if I find something else and I still won't be happy? What if I don't even try? What if I just give up?

Staring at the black nothingness of the floor you confess to yourself:

Only you can make a decision, so what will it be?

The City of Forgotten Dreams

People have come from near and far to make their dreams come true. They've packed up all their belongings and taken a one-way ticket from "Nowhere" to going to NYU for that college experience to following your boyfriend/girlfriend because their dreams of an artist/writer/musician/NYSE floor broker have taken them to this surreal city.

The daylight-strength lights of Times Square, the cacophony of screeching subway tracks, and the neverending crowds of tourists overflowing the sidewalks and onto streets. It's a magical place that feels like no other. You can't begin to describe it to the person on the other end of the phone. All you can tell them is that "I'm here and safe."

You are Icarus who wants to know how far your wings can take you.

Until you are shoved by a person who has only 15 minutes left of lunchtime and still hasn't found the right food to sustain him until 6PM. You've been swept into the sea of people like a strong uncaring current. You develop this need to "go", but unsure as to why. All you know is that you need to follow the direction of the "business casually" dressed crowd.

Years go by and everything becomes mundane and routine. Your tourist ambitions become a New Yorker's happy hour joke. You’ve suddenly forgotten your dreams and why you came to the city in the first place. You've grown accustomed to the gum-stained sidewalks, wear headphones to avoid the screeching of incoming trains, and developed the unimportant frustrations of a New Yorker.

Beating rush hour is now your only ambition.

Until one day you walk out the door without sunglasses and have to look up at the sun to gauge the daylight. You hope you won't ruin your practically blind eyes. Today the clouds are slow like a snail, unlike the other day when they were rolling like an incoming tide.

Which seems curious as you thought they were simply there. Now you can't help but continue to look up. You realize something is missing and it's not your building card.

Blissful emotion that you once had is replaced by claustrophobia. The city suddenly becomes more than just skyscrapers and horizon streets and people needing to "go." But now you're dreams feel so very far. Or just lost. When you looked up you saw how small you were in comparisons to the buildings that are swallowing you up.

Those dreams of yours have drifted away and its too far to swim back.

Daedelus was right.

Hands trying to hold on cover the white ceiling of a subway car. That feeling of longing is gone when the electronic conductor announces your stop. You have push your way out before the doors close and goes on its way. You beat yourself up for leaving the apartment too late.

As you walk out of the station into the light, you look up again at the sky. You notice the clouds moved a centimeter but only because you blinked. You feel sad but unsure why.

Welcome to New York.