To often I find myself daydreaming.
I live in this alternative world because quite frankly this real world is fucking boring.
I think about how things would be if I could make a difference. If things could be as I envision.
Yes little shy me. The kid who was taught to speak only when spoken to then was never spoken too. Yes me the one that has left so many women feeling like they would never be good enough because deep down I was afraid to love them and only them…

I dream, I dream of a different world.
I dream of a place where the strongest weapon for those who often feel powerless is their smiles. And they smile all god-damn day; as if they just smoke a pound of purple kush that they got from the police for being a good citizen; as if they were having an orgasm with each step; smiling like they just won the lottery and have the winning ticket in their pocket; smiling like they know they will always have someone who loves them waiting for them, and that’s all they’ll ever need

Then I start to wonder what if tomorrow is a holiday to celebrate those who have felt tired and defeated for longer than they want to remember yet survive beyond the outer limits.
We would celebrate the bum hanging out near the gas station who was once a former war veteran that now feels ignored and betrayed by his own country and now clings to his empty bottle of vodka and his nightmares when he can find a decent place to sleep.
How bout a holiday for the young woman that just found out she’s pregnant by the man she knows will never marry her and now she has no help and no hope of being half the mother that her mother was to her.
A holiday for the nerds who  spend most time online jacking, the handicapped, poor, and those trapped in their parents basement, retirement homes, hospitals, and the closet who never come out. A day where they along with everyone else who has been marginalized to the point they don’t even fit on the paper that would have them as a sad statistic. Just one day they get noticed. More than noticed, one where they have someone that can look the in the eye, put a hand on their shoulder and tell them despite all the bullshit, I see you.

I live in this world. I dream of this world.

Where wheel of fortune isn’t just a 30 minute game show but everyone’s friday night. Where not having money means you don’t give a damn about being a consumer as much as you care about investing in common sense. 100 pennies earned from dirty sidewalks will still be $1. And fuck you McDonald’s and your value meal if this; the hardest earned currency isn’t good enough for you processed shit.

In my dreamworld the mentally ill are hedge fund managers, investment bankers, and commodity traders that think it’s perfectly normal to make $300,000 bonuses on top of the millions in salary. Fuck you and your private jets.

I dream about making a difference like Langston Hughes dreams of rivers. Like John F Kennedy dreamed of going to the moon. Not because it is easy but because it is hard.
I live in a place where people don’t speak unless they have actions to match there words. Willing to sacrifice convince to see the most precious aspects of life flourish. Even if that means forsaking traditions of the past for the uncertainty of the future.

This is how, why, where, and what I dream. To go beyond the universe as we know, to go to a world within worlds. To inspire that great action that was just an impossible thought. To feel the joy of being human