I have a want. A desire. A need. A dream.

My want includes things left behind. Things unmentioned. Things I've never had. They bloom into my desire. Desiring for success, prosperity, and just surviving. The undeniable desire drives like a guide, like hope.

Hope.

Hope which is so misleading yet we need it for comfort and to attempt to fill this desire so maybe, we could fill the want.

We begin to need this desire, need it to carry us through, day by day by day. Even when nothing is accomplished or found, the want eats away our happiness and our attempt to be whole again. To feel right, we fill this hole with desire. We need to fill it. Or we wont move on. We'll stop and we'll die internally. Without a desire to hope. Without a want to survive.

When we begin to fill this hole, it manifests into a dream. A dream that we cannot touch, but in place we need to put our desires to fulfill our wants. Even if we reject our wants, it'll turn into a dream that we might even know about.

But how can we fill this hole with desires? Why cant any dream occur? We can not keep the hole open. The wind would blow through it and leave us behind. So we create something to put in place.

The impossible is a far stretch. So far away, that it is not in our control. At all. A dream can be crushed and obliterated into a million pieces or slowly fade as the wind passes through the gaps of the hole. When it is crushed, for a brief moment we feel everything, the hole wide and open. We stop and fall, looking through the shattered pieces of our wants, desires, and needs. The most precious and jagged things that once made something beautiful.

Those found in the wasteland sit and look at the pieces, not noticing the wind degrading their soul, the sand grinding against it. Few try and stand to find new pieces to fill. Some try and cram the old pieces in. But after such destruction, they cannot fit without the want even though there is a need.

A dream is so fragile and no one realizes it. The smallest drop of rain can eat it like acid. I'll go on, holding it carefully like a child. I'll keep going even though the wind finds the gaps at the seams. Maybe, if I want it enough, and if my desire grows, maybe, just maybe, it'll fulfill the need to bear through this so that one day I will fly with the wind and not against it.