Until

I stare intently at my dreams –

Until I end up loathing every bit of my here and now.

Until it hurts.

Until I bleed.

Until my bed is soaked like a wet sponge.

Until the entire floor turns crimson.

Until my slippers are taken by the current and they find their way out of the door.

Until I come back to my senses and realize that something hurts.

Until I realize that that something that hurts, is me thinking of what should be while lying on my bed doing nothing.

Until I realize that nothing will suffice to kindle my inner fire to get it back to life but to get the fuck off my bed and get something done to inch closer to my prize. What is that fucking something, exactly? Anything. Because anything’s better than nothing. It is said that when I start looking for it, it will start looking for me as well. I need to believe in that something.

Until I see that dream with my very own eyes. Tangible, and already in the present instead of being confined only within the bounds of my skull. Until I lay my hands on it. And take possession of which. But until then, I’ll take that first step forward and will keep on moving.

Until it hurts to move. Until I’ve reached my limit for the day. Until every muscle is sore. Until my brain starts to yell ‘enough!’ I’ll keep pushing through until it hurts. Fuck that hurt anyway. It hurts more just staring at my dreams and doing nothing to achieve them. I bet it will hurt less when I am mobile than when I’m static.

Until my dreams become my here and now.