Poets Dream ≠ Reality

I was listening to some people talking earlier today and something that one of them said stuck me like a pin prick in the ear. The words themselves werent the "issue" but it was just the manner in which he was speaking; the tone or lack of feeling.

The conversation was that which you hear a lot probably. There wasnt anything there. There was no life to it. Small talk? I dont think that small talk is a bad thing all the time but the idea that small talk becomes the majority of conversations becomes something that disgusts me. It frightens me even.

You mean to tell me that we as human beings with intellectual thought process and advanced speech have conversations that hold little value and meaning to advance one or two minds at the same time.

I hear people talk about how expensive a car is and how much it would cost once its bought and raise in value because theres only a certain number of them made. How much this watch costs made the same way that any other watch is made but it has a name on it that shows "value".

This is not hating on peoples hobbies or interests.

No, it is me saying that there has to be more.

People make fun of poets for being dreamers and romanticizing life. They make fun that they can take something as simple as breathing air into a life changing expereince that sparks a wildfire as the oxygen travels through the nose and fills the lungs with a burning love that creates life in every space it fills and the cycle repeats.

They make fun of these poets who dream of a world where the touch of a lover is as powerful as the bomb dropped on Japan during WW2. The touch sends a wave of passion so strong that inhibitions are lost to the abyss of desire and two people connect so deeply that their breath becomes one in a complete synergetic form with each exhale the other inhales and they feel a power so complete that they lose themselves in a whole new world and being.

But yes...talking about how much a car is worth once you buy it and take it off the lot because of how few there are in production, is way more entertaining to talk about and express interest in without being made fun.

Poets dream not because we

are afraid or hopeless, but because we know reality

will never be as vibrant and real as a dream.

This is both a curse and a blessing.

To see life in such a manner that the simplest act can become so powerful and even romantic

only to remember that these are not real to the other people around us so we are left to dream alone.