Based on a dream I had.

I was alone.
I was fleeing the city, the ongoing rush of people walking to and from hurriedly. The congestion of traffic everywhere you turned. The bright lights, the buzz of people talking on their cell phones, someone off in the distance yelling for a taxi, the sizzle of street food being cooked. I fled from it as fast as I could not really knowing where I was going.

Turning around I could see a bridge off in the distance for it was the cutting point where the beginning of the chaos started and I was free. I smiled as I turned back around and kept walking away from it, onward towards the green hills, and I realized I wasn't wearing the appropriate shoes for the dirt and grass particles were settling towards the sides of my flats and making my trek extremely uncomfortable but I moved forward regardless.

I came upon a body of water and it reminded me of my youth. Memories of carrying fishing poles and buckets with tools alongside my father flashed in my mind and I wondered if this water connected to the sea. A smile came across my face as I saw a pelican stretch it's wings and fly across towards the water and I realized that yes; it must connect to the sea.

There was a house settled not too far from the body of water, nestled in between two large trees that provided much shade. The more I looked, the more inviting the small house became. It beckoned to me; "Come, live here for I am vacant." This call needed to be answered and that was where I ultimately ended my journey.

I thought I had found peace at last and that I could spend my remaining days feeding my artistic needs in my little house next to the bay but it was not so for parts of the house began to crumble, and the doors became rusty and at one point refused to close altogether.

"What could I do?" My mind screamed as I pulled my hair back; another patch of roof crumbled to the floor and there wasn't a soul in sight that could help me in my dilemma. I walked over to where the crumbled mess lay, kneeled in front of it as I felt tears blur my vision. Why? Why couldn't I live in peace and solitude? Why did the world have to turn against me in some form or other? More importantly; what would I do now?

There seemed to be no other choice, I had to find work and devote the majority of my time, not to my artistic desire, but to labor I didn't care much about; but it was clear that I had no choice, and so I went. I went wearing all black except for a white undershirt. I wore it to convey my loss, loss for what could've been if my own house had not turned against me.

Ultimately I ended up walking into a large building. The outside looked like glass except you could not peer inside of it, all you could see was your own reflection staring back you, reminding me that I was here and not in my house by the bay.

Men in suits appeared before me. They walked with their noses high up in the air making no eye contact whatsoever, their purposeful strides said to me: "I am powerful, all knowing, and you are nothing." I felt anger boiling inside me and I again cursed the fact that I had to be here amongst them and not in my house by the bay, but I did what was necessary and I did it with a smile. Once I fixed my house I could leave this place and never see any of them again.

Having been accepted almost immediately to work; I carried binders by the dozen, my arms trying to support the weight of all the manuscripts, juggling to hold them but simultaneously trying to push the button for the elevator when a man suddenly said: "I've got that for you." followed by the chime of the elevator door opening.
The shock was so great that I dropped all the binders. One of them snapped open and papers began to fly in the air but I didn't care; I was in complete awe of this man that stood in front of me.

He did not wear a suit like the others no, he wore a simple white dress shirt tucked into his grey trousers with a navy tie. His warm smile and twinkling blue eyes warmed my bitter soul and I understood the expression of feeling 'weightless'. I said nothing. Not even a thank you but he continued to smile even as he walked off in a different direction, leaving me looking after him with my mouth agape.
In a world where it felt like everything was against me, there still remained that small spark of hope. Things would get better.

Time passed quickly and pretty soon I had what I needed to fix my house, and I reveled in the idea that I could go back to my art and spend my days in the my house by the bay. That day, when I returned from work; I noticed that the door was more ajar than usual and I felt my stomach turn violently in fear for it did not lock very well and it was one of the things that needed fixing.
I was sprinting towards the door and I pushed it open and felt my heart sink when I realized that someone had been here and the little belongings I possessed had been stolen from me.

Time was not a relevant factor as I lay sprawled on the floor crying until it physically hurt to breathe. It was not the material possessions that I grieved over you understand; it was the situation. What if I had been there? Was I safe in this house by the bay? and then there was the knowledge that I could not stop working now as I had planned; I would have to continue. I didn't even bother picking up the mess that was made from the obvious scurrying they did trying to get everything as fast as possible. At one point they had stepped on a pile of crumbled roof for there was a large footprint embedded there now.

With a heavy heart; I made my way to work the following day having to put aside my plans of giving final notice and having to bear the arrogance of these men who thought they were Gods. The glass building was their kingdom, and I was one of the subjects tending to them. It was a vicious circle of bitter anguish and frustration. I wanted to physically hurt them, but that anger would quickly subside, falling into realization that I could be resentful, be bitter, and that still would not change the reality of my situation. Either way; I was stuck.

Work came and I carried out my tasks. It didn't matter if I liked it anymore, it was a good means of getting back to where I wanted to be and that's all that mattered. I had given up on my artistic pursuit because it became too painful. My house by the bay became a burden to me and I found that I too began resenting it for even though it was an inanimate object; it was eating up my time and energy.

I was walking down the hall, observing the pattern on the tile floor so as not to have to look at the suits until my vision came upon a pair of black shoes that still didn't move even as approached. I stopped and then looked up, my eyes coming in contact with the same twinkling blue eyes from the other day. It had felt like ages since I had seen him and I thought I wouldn't ever come across him again but there he was. "What should I do?" I hastily thought to myself. His blonde hair was slightly disheveled and his shirt was wrinkled, and there were stains all over his pants.

"You're a mess!" I blurted out.

He simply continued to smile before replying: "Yes, but I will get clean again."

My eyes narrowed as I now began to observe him in a suspicious manner. Such optimism clashed against my pessimistic views and it was unsettling.

"But what if you get messed up again?" I challenged. Let's see how he answered that!

My eyes widened as he came closer to me. Should I push him away? But I was in shock and did not move as I felt his fingers caress the side of my face before he inclined his head. I felt my stomach flip and my breath come fast when I felt his lips brush against mine for those few seconds. I felt a warmth engulf my very being and the feeling of weightlessness was even more powerful than when we had met before. I felt like I could do anything, and the rush of it was so great that I pulled away, gasping for breath. He on the other hand was still smiling before he turned and walked away.

That night was the first night that I began to fix up the house since the robbery. I picked up the pieces of crumbled roof and splintered wood and began placing them in the trash bag. Tomorrow I would take my earnings and buy some necessary supplies to begin fixing up the house little by little.

I looked out the window, feeling a sense of peace as I observed the tranquil water. A mullet had jumped up suddenly and caused a violent ripple but after a while it had calmed and the bay was back to normal. I smiled as I observed this for the occurrences in my life were in ways very similar. The sudden splashes that life throws will eventually calm and settle, the point is to you yourself remain calm and carry out the situation as best as possible for if you bury yourself with even more splashes; the ripple turns into a tidal wave of problems.

Allowing myself to become engulfed in the sense of rare optimism; I looked forward to what the future might have in store for me.