and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

And I just got up for another cup of coffee that I don't need to put into my system. Not a 'holic, but just nothing better to do than drink some more because, well, I just don't care - does that make any sense?

It's our generation's national anthem, doncha know? I don't care. Whatever.

Which is another way of saying I'm lazy. I'll deal with the consequences of my current actions later - even if the consequences are hard, painful, large.. if I can put it off right now, right this instance... well, why not?

People sometimes wonder where it all comes from - parents, older people - the same people who voted for Reagan and watched him piss away trillions and thought "eh, we'll deal with that later". They wonder where their kids got their laize-faire attitude when every time they go to the grocery store it's on the plastic card and the bills get bigger, but the payments stay the same. People wonder.

I wonder about people.

I wonder where it comes from, what is it with the human mind that makes the immediate so much more prevelant in our minds. What is it that makes the future seem so surreal and un-plan-worthy to most? I know that sure, we're here now - right now - and that must seem so much more prevelant to our simple little minds than even 5 minutes from now, but come on. We're "smart", right? We invented the concept. We're sentient. We think. We process. We know everything, right?

So maybe everyone else isn't planning diddly but up in here, I'm grinding away at a plan 24/7. Processing directives and blueprints and ideas - sending them out to the various departments of my mind for approval, meetings, sub-committees.. you name it. I'm forming this plan - this idea - where everything I type or say has ultimate meaning. Where all thoughts are brave and insightful. Where every action is well thought out, charming, and gentlemanly. Every time you'd want me I'd be there for you and in fact, you would want me to be. You'd think of me when I wasn't there and you'd want me to call you up on the telephone just so you could hear my voice. You'd realize your desire for me and we'd be together. We'd be a indestructable team taking on the world - not like a fighting team but a problem-solving team, making things better brighter bigger faster. We'd appreciate the world together, celebrate our individualities, enjoy our company.

But for now I'm waiting. I'm waiting for you to want me, need me, notice that I'm even still here. I'm waiting for a sign, a message, a note, a thought. I'm waiting for you to realize I am the one. If only for that one moment when you grasp that slippery elusive thought swimming around just outside your reach, the one that says to you you want him.

Deep breath.

I'm perfectly imperfect, waiting for a split second that won't happen, thinking of a life that won't materialize, overly patient, confident, knowing without a doubt in my mind I would, could, should make you happier than anyone could possible make you and knowing, knowing, knowing your inability to make the realization, knowing you, too, are ultimately imperfect, ultimately human, unable to grasp the wisp of rope floating out in space right near you, the one that could connect you to me, the one that would seal our fates together as a knot binds a sail to it's ship, knowing I will one day dangle that rope as close to you as I dare, knowing it will catch the corner of your eye but you will be unable to see it for what it is looking directly on it, knowing I will waste my hope on a hopeless waste and knowing that I will do it regardless, just because.

Exhale.