That which refers to exuberance, perhaps, fantasy. The drive that keeps man in tune with his wildest imaginations; whether of a fairy-tale nuptial bliss with the perfect partner, an utopian home in paradise, an excellent career, and all sundry inclination the mind can conceive. For young children, it is counted only but flights of fantasy, then as it is pondered upon in later years, such thoughts consumes the heart as the billowing inferno of hades, it is albeit counted as aspirations; an askew audacity whispers hope in man, that it can nonetheless be attained. Benign thoughts of mundane possibility makes man determined to satisfy these lofty desires, whatever the means. Does he think himself alone in the pursuit of happiness??? Same he seeks, other men in hundreds also seek, perhaps, ...thousands more. Yet in every mans fantasy, himself is the overlord. He is as a man on the mountain top, and fantasy like a towering castle set ahead of him, for him alone to plunder. Many a man fixes gaze ahead on the yonder that bears those fantasies of his, with all exciting aura, he looks up afar, the fantasies appear reachable, in a burst of optimism he declares; eureka! yes!, if I can see it!, I can get it! He considers the prize, but considers less the price. From the point of his immaculate perception, when these desires glow brightest, and it seems nearest, with a high gaze fixed on his minds treasure, he takes a leap to grasp fantasy and cause it to be reality, this is all he can see. The sprawling dark valley set between him and fantasy did not catch his sight. Alas, theres a passionate leap, a forward thrust, an upward glide, an onward propulsion; but destination is farther than envisaged, he glances below, to consider the divide of separation, cos his flight has not taken him far, lo! so great a separation, his leap cannot go further, then, theres a down fall, he looks up as he plunges down the valley, the drop seems to have no end, fantasy grows dimmer until the depth of plunge takes it out of sight ...forever. Perhaps if man considered the hurdle which stood before him, he wouldve bridged the divide to cross-over, though painstaking and time taking; little by little, slow but steady, a day at a time, it would have brought him to fantasy. Fantasy will remain memories of future past if the path is counted to be as pleasurable as it itself. But to one who looks up ahead to glimpse fantasy, then looks down to evaluate his path, fantasy might just be reality. Fantasy does not exist, make it reality.
Posted on: Wed, 16 Jul 2014 09:51:14 +0000
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