While You Looked The Other Way

Sometimes you just feel as if the life you are actually living is not the same as the life you're living in your head. The life you're living in your dreams. In the dream life, you don't take out the trash and clean the toilet. You don't nag about bills or how you're going to afford rent. You don't doubt, you're not unhappy, you never get hung-over. You don't ponder. You don't skip meals and you never miss your favourite TV show. Your relationships don't run on routine. In the dream life, there is magic, there are all the good moments, without all the time-killing in between. What you believe and what you stand for, your principles, are more important than putting X's in the checkboxes on the To-Do-List. Who you are is more important than what you do.
And most of us know this. One day you just stop and think to yourself: "This isn't the life I thought I would be living." Some take it with ease, some take it with discomfort and disbelief. Some get angry. People like me. Cause you know that there is the life you wanted for yourself, and that you got in your head, and the life that you are living, that you got all around you, and, more importantly, you know that there is a space inbetween those lives that has mysteriously disappeared. And where has that gone? While you were robbed of your dreams and banished to the ordinary everyday life, that little slip of information, that little piece of a possible future, just might have taken its chance and run away while it could. And you know why it could? Because you were looking the other way, watching your dream life evolve around you in awe, never realising that that was just you, dreaming away, loosening yourself from the boredom you face in actual reality.
Once you start looking the right way, you might be able to catch it. Hold on to it. Clutch that feverish little mirror, that space, that chance to reach your dreams... And if you do... you could do anything. Believe me... Catch that fleeing spark... And your flames will never die.
BYEBYE LULLABY from the Paradoxal POET in the JAR