Dreams

I dug out a stack of writing paper from my university days and found some random writing on one page. I probably wrote it in university, recounting my days in junior college. Reading this now almost 7 years after I first wrote it, I am struck by a sense of reduced possibilities. It feels like the older I grow, the less possibilities I feel I have. Anyway here goes.

It was a day of the beige. They were 18, young, and full of life. They took the short walk to the beach behind their school. Stretching out their legs and basking in the sun, they began to speak about their future. They were animated, bursting with excitement, and each wore a smile brighter than sunshine. They had plans, many plans, and all sounded like stars within reach. They could do anything they wanted. They could run, fly, jump, disappear. They could pull the trigger and ignite a burst of confetti around their world. There was nothing that sounded impossible, there was nothing stopping them. They could charge on with an endless stream of energy. They could because they wanted to.

They were 18 and dreams were still possible.