Do Not Succumb To Your Dreams

Do Not Succumb To Your Dreams

Do not succumb to your dreams

Do not get lost in fantasy

That's what my brain tells me every day

"Be productive! Do that task!"

"You're seconds away from losing your apartment!"

"Focus on how you're a failure!"

"Linger on how you're dysphoric!"

"Harp on these failures before anyone else notices them!"

So it is in my brain. Over and over and over and over again

Usually, I listen to it

Better to be productive and earn money

What's the use in dreaming about the impossible?

It's not practical

But sometimes, when I'm trying to go to sleep,

Or had an especially trying day,

I close my eyes and succumb to those dreams

Specifically, one fantasy I keep returning to

It's an Autumn afternoon, clouds dotting a blue sky

The temperature is 63 degrees, you can taste the crispness in the air

I'm standing next to a walking trail in one of my pink princess dresses

Rivers of colorful makeup patterns dot my face

Green and blue hues adorn the top and bottom of my lips

As I hum a John Denver tune, I see her

The woman I'm seeing...romantically

She strolls up in a flannel top 

Tight shorts covered in red and white stripes

And one or two strands of her short hair slightly fluttering in the wind

A wry smile comes over her face as she approaches me

"Guess who gave me a hard time at work today?" she asks

"It was David again, right?" I respond

She emits a mighty groan

The kind a beast would emit when caught in a trap

It's also her way of saying "yes"

"He's always riding my dick and saying the worst shit," she recounts

As we begin walking down the trail

Finally, with me, she can vent about all the workplace shit she endures

As we saunter from one woodland tableau to the next

Eventually, she sighs

"I hate that place," she murmurs with her head tilted down

She didn't want a solution

I gave her instead a hand squeeze

She looked up and smiled

"But I'm off for the weekend," she remarked, a grin returning to her face

"Yes!" I exclaim, "We can finally go see 100 gecs like you wanted"

With that, we began chanting the chorus of  the 100 gecs tune "Hollywood Baby"

Much to the befuddlement of any passing walkers

We also eventually chatted about all her favorite subjects

Machines, gears, engines, things I never thought twice about before

But I was enraptured when she info dump'd about them

Periodically, I'd propose a question about this interest

Probing her to keep talking about these matters that brought her joy

She was alive once again

Being heard rejuvenates the soul like nothing else

Eventually, we emerged from the foliage

And came upon a pier leading out to a beach

"Beaches are kind of gross," she glibly observed.

Me, always being the optimist to her practical demeanor,

nodded before noting "at least the water's different from all the Texas concrete!"

Suddenly, my eyes spied a funnel cake booth

I licked my chops and pointed at the stand

Her eyes widen in excitement

And we proceeded to chow down on the floury confection

She once again chuckled (as she always does when we're snacking)

Over how the "princess" she was dating scarfed down food

Like Mr. Fox in Fantastic Mr. Fox

I proceed to further chow down on the funnel cake

With extra noisy sound effects, much to her amusement

I love her laugh

It's so full of verve and boisterousness

Her laugh exudes the unabashed confidence

I've pursued my whole life

We continue ambling down the pier

With the setting sun emitting orange streaks

Across the sky and, via reflections, the ocean below

As we stared at this glorious sight

She suddenly wrapped her arm around me

And began scratching my head

Not a word was exchanged in that moment

Having each other was enough

Do not succumb to your dreams

That's what my brain always says

But I'm steadily learning to say back

"Fuck off" to that tendency

What's wrong with submerging 

Into a warm romantic fantasy

Like an inviting body of water?

Why not succumb to your dreams

When they're this intoxicating?