I wake up the same way every day now. Sweating, short of breath and panicking, every time and I’m starting to get fucking sick of it.
I feel ill so I guess it could just be that but I’m finding it hard to get to sleep in the first place too so maybe it’s just mild insomnia? Or maybe I’m just haunted by bad decisions and nightmares of how it could’ve been.
I’m going to go with illness, until I undoubtedly get proven wrong.
The reason why our country is so awful at the moment is simple to me now. If you look around you see a void in so, so many people. There’s people across the country with virtually no ambition and it’s the reason why anybody is unsuccessful. If you look at America, you’ll see hundreds upon hundreds of people who do what they need to to make their dreams come true. There’s people who make money from doing what they love and for one simple reason.
From the youngest age, Americans are told that they live in the land of opportunity. They’re given the concept of the American dream from such a young age that it becomes part of the very core of their belief system. The American dream is to do what you love and make more money than you can possibly need in doing so. It’s in every successful American, they love what they do and they use that drive to be the best at what they do.
Here in Britain there is no dream, we’re stuck with a class-system and an ineffective monarchy. We’re told from birth that if you’re not born into it, you aren’t going to get it. We follow the traditional methods of gradual progress, you get a job slightly better than your parents and hopefully, in hundreds of years to come, one of your descendants might be a doctor and earn a decent amount of money.
The main problem with this is that all it takes is one slip-up along the way, one person in the family tree who fails at what they do and all of a sudden the progress is back to the beginning and we have to start all over again. In America, it’s go big or go home. Each generation gets their own chance to make it and if they don’t, they pass the torch on to the next. There’s no gradual development, it’s all or nothing and that’s the way it should be.
I’m currently doing some research for an assignment on Posthumanism and stumbled across an incredible article about autobiographies and essentially why some are successful and others aren’t and according to this, it basically all boils down to how evocative the writer is.
It got me thinking, do I write that well? When someone reads the words that I’ve put to paper (or clumsily jabbed onto a keyboard) can they really smell my dreams? Are the words just lazily seeping into your brain like the incessant dripping of a tap that’s just out of sight or are they crashing through the window of your mind like a Phillipino hurricane? Am I one of the people able to turn words into me-tinted glasses and give the smallest part of me to someone else? I hope so, I truly do.
I was asked a question as old as time today, one that I’ve been answering at least once a month since I’ve been able to talk with increasing frequency since I officially became an adult. It starts out as “what do you want to be when you grow up?” and gradually develops into “what are you going to be?”.
The difference between these two questions are miniscule in terms of grammar but the insinuations hidden behind the questions are monumentally different. The first is the obvious one, the fact that the sentence loses four key words and tells you that you’re now grown up. You’re no longer planning for the future, you’re planning for right now. There is no intangible and idealistic vision of your future self, it’s just who you are right now, give or take the occasional major epiphany.
The second difference is far harder to notice but even more painful to realise. It is no longer a case of what you want to be, but what you’re going to be. It’s an implication that what you want is no longer the most important part of the goal, it’s not a case of what you want to do but what you’re going to have to do. As you mature, so does your outlook on life and the dream job that combines minimal effort with maximum reward is no longer a possibility, it’s a case of finding a balance between both. Maximum effort will produce maximum reward and minimal effort will produce minimal reward, that’s essentially why some people are happy stocking shelves and others push themselves to breaking point in order to achieve what they believe that they want.
In response to the question, I wasn’t able to confide in the other person what my dream job is. That’s a story for another time, or at least i hope it will be.
I heard the term “Psychonaut” over the weekend and I’ve spent most of today researching these sailors of the mind. I’m living the clean life now and steering clear of drugs so I’ve decided to experiment with the non-pharmaceutical side of it and start writing a dream-journal and forcing myself to remember every dream I have during the night, apparently this is the first step toward “lucid dreaming” or actually being able to control and create my own dreams. I’ll also start experimenting with yoga and breathing exercises in the day, eventually building up to spending an hour or two in an isolation tank and an infrared sauna in a specially-designed centre nearby in Swansea. The man in me hopes this will all lead to a better understanding of my own mind and the universe around me. The child in me hopes to achieve psychic powers.
I feel mentally and physically exhausted and believe it or not, I’ve already fallen asleep once for a few minutes while writing this. I’ve spent the day with the girlfriend being there for her through a personal and family problem. I shared some of my fears, hopes and dreams with her and she did the same in return. After all of that talking and trying to force things out that are sometimes just too hard to say, I feel a thousand times closer to her than I am or ever have been to anyone else but also like I’m about to drop at any minute. Now it’s only 03:31 so it’ll be an early night for me I think. In the immortal words of the most famous swine in the western hemisphere, “That’s All Folks!”
Now it’s seldom any more than once or twice a month and I’m grateful for it. My dreams aren’t the lovely, flying, gracious dreams. Mine are the ones that make you feel like you’ve been hit by a fucking train and had a bucket of water thrown over you just for good measure. I think it’s because I’m not afraid any more, I’m not avoiding the future, I’m embracing it. I can’t wait to see where this ends up.