Dreams
Many years ago, I read a Stephen King novel, called Dreamcatcher. There is a phrase that is repeated by several of its characters, that in a way I adopted: SSDD that means Same shit, Different day. That's how my days were. One after another. I was sick of it. Everything was the same as the day before. The same people, the same things, the same mistakes and therefore the same lessons to be learned. I fell into a tedious monotony.
It almost seemed unreal that I would be twenty-three years of age and I was still living with my parents. I was frustrated, with mediocre jobs such as attorney aide, secretary of some architect or the helper of some millionaire’s wife. But those were the only ones available that provided decent wages and I had to settle, because of my country’s economic crisis, it didn’t provide with many job options. I had so many unfulfilled dreams, goals and desires that were diluted in time.
I should do something.
But what?
That was my inner daily struggle. I was stagnant and aimless. I didn’t know what the hell to do with my life. I was a recently graduated economist from the Central University in Venezuela, but I didn’t feel the passion to practice it. A degree that I got just to satisfy my mother’s whim.
I had so many talents, but none of the activities I was engaged in were fulfilling. That was the upside of being an indigo girl. My parents never noticed it. How did I know I was indigo? My psychiatrist told me last week. That day I discovered many things about the topic. I learned that my lack of interest in things, after some time, was not due to me being an unruly girl, but because it was out of my hands. When you find what you absolutely love, you will see, because as time goes by you won’t feel bored or overwhelmed with what you do, the doctor said.
At this point in my life, I felt I had done everything and, at the same time, nothing at all. I continued to await anxiously to discover what my passion was. I knew something was missing in my life, but I didn’t know what it was.
I wanted to do something different, really live.
I remember that when I was a child, I could only picture myself singing on a stage and being applauded by thousands of people.
Other days, I pretended being the director of a successful blockbuster movie, on my imaginary film set.
I sometimes read the newspaper to my father, pretending to be the news anchor. Other times, I was in front of a mirror dancing to the choreographies of my favorite artists. I recall knowing perfectly all the steps of musical videos from N’Sync, Britney Spears and Backstreet Boys. I dreamt of becoming a dancer for one of them. Meeting them, travelling around the world, and having a steamy romance with Brian Littrell or Justin Timberlake.
Nowadays I sigh and smile half-heartedly, when remembering that innocence and those dreams. I only wonder:
Where did all those dreams go?
I believe they started to disappear the day a boy broke my heart for the first time. I realized that life is cruel. Then came the university, and with it the harsh reality. I forgot my dreams.
I jumped out of bed and went to the bathroom. Without losing any time, I washed my face and brushed my teeth. I went to the kitchen and I ate a big bowl of cereal, even when it was already lunchtime, while my mother argued because we’d run out of sugar and we hadn’t told her. That day I woke up almost at noon because I was up until five in the morning, trying to get into the SAIME page to process my mother's passport renewal appointment, but there was no human power to make that blessed page load. The mysterious thing about it is, that if you pay workers of that same establishment, it will load wonderfully for them.
My father was in front of the television, fighting with the news anchor because inflation was going to take us all by the horns.
A common Saturday morning. Well, to be honest, for me, that’s what it would be until I got a new job. After almost a year of working for the BA Roberto Colmenares, aka Bobby dirty old man, I decided to quit from his many attempts of inviting me to his luxurious mansion in La Castellana and seeing the beautiful Caracas sunset. No thank you. I am no prehistoric elements lover.
I went out to the balcony and I could see the bustling city. It was chaos. It was total chaos day and night. My beautiful country, little by little, was slowly sinking into misery and the chances of its emergence were minimal, unless you had good contacts in high political circles. I dressed up and went in search of my best friend, Randy.
He never stopped dreaming and unlike me, he pursued his dreams with passion and dedication. I was his antithesis. Randy was an upcoming theater actor, very well known in my country. He was incredibly talented.
I remember that, when we were children, he used to come to my house (our mothers were big friends because of a church event they had met at) and we played until it was nighttime. I was always the damsel in distress. He was the prince that rescued me. He had the gift of reciting Shakespeare in an amazing way, at the age of twelve. He always said he wanted to be an actor or an incredibly famous singer. Much to his regret, he was not particularly good at singing.
Many times, he was the driving force behind so much craziness, like that time he registered me, without my knowledge, in a Latin American Idol casting. I was pre-selected, but two weeks before the final audition, I decided to abandon it, for fear of failing or that my voice wasn’t good enough.
And just like on that occasion, there were many times when I let an opportunity slip by, out of fear.
I walked in between the chaos and the city’s hustle and bustle of disastrous Caracas. I was listening to, as I did every morning, the only song that would cheer me up at these early hours: Wake me Up from Avicii.
I took the subway and got deeper into the chaos. I was very much surprised to see that the city was so busy, considering it was a weekend. I thought the street would be still, but I was wrong. Caracas was more crowded than normal.
I was pleasantly surprised that my great platonic love twitted, after so much time, because he had been inactive in the famous social network for almost four months due to work issues. He was shooting three movies simultaneously and a mini-series. I looked at my cell phone screen and smiled when I recognized the beautiful phrase that became his personal slogan.
“Dreams are for making them a reality, so chase them and fulfill them. The sky is the limit. Your sky. Your limit.”.
Definitely, Xander Granderson was the most spectacular man on the face of the Earth, and I will point out his virtues.
1. He is generous: He is a spokesman for dozens of charities, as well as being an ambassador for UNICEF in the UK.
2. He is talented: He is the owner of a countless amount of recognitions and awards for his renowned roles in the movies, television, and the theater.
3. He is kind: He always has a smile on his face. He never says no to a fan, even if you can tell a mile away that he's tired and wants to get into bed and hibernate for a whole year if possible, he always agrees to give autographs and take a picture with anyone who asks him. He is grateful all the time and asks for apologies when he hasn’t done anything wrong. Maybe he should apologize for being so handsome. That should be a crime. Doesn’t his face hurt with being so handsome?
4. Did I already mention he is incredibly attractive? God! With that Greek God face, those blue eyes, or are they green? His blonde, curly hair. And I must confess I never liked blonds, but Xander is the exception.
5…
I think I'd better stop, or else I won't stop listing the things I love about him.