I frequently tend to plunge myself into the mystical, pseudo world that is my mind, where my lovely, yet cataclysmic dragons labeled thoughts reside. Their cages are unlocked whenever I daydream or drift into my routine slumber at night. The beasts carelessly rampage through my brain, and dreams are spontaneously generated from each combustion that occurs. How easily a dream can be created out of nothing itself, yet can symbolise so much. Or that’s at least what I believe. How could dreams not mean anything with such vivid imagery and clever organization. Unlike any other, I recently had a dream where my vision was ruthlessly taken away from me in a second. The cruel darkness filled my whole being, even infiltrating the tiny crevices of my soul, and the ominous shadows began to take over. As my sense of sight leisurely returned, I was taken aback by all the lack of color that it made my breath escape me. Chalk white and lifeless grey walls, signs, and computers everywhere. This immense, but empty box I was contained in was the epitome of the word, “lifeless”. Even my body had its pigment stolen and was replaced with a dull grey. I noticed I was in some sort of conveyor line, with other strange, grey, lethargic individuals in the order. Step by step, we travelled across the assembly path like we were manufactured products. Shifting my head to the right, I saw different entrances with big, titanium rimmed signs that read, “School”, “Work”, “Society” and many more indications that continued on forever.
I staggered out of surprise as I continued to glance to the right side of the line, and spotted a group of people who still had life and color instilled into their bodies. They, like us, began to march forward through the gates with the strange signs that centered on society. A brown haired woman led the group, and they cheerfully took their strides, approaching the portal. Inches before the door labeled, “Society’s rules and expectations”, I peered into the woman’s mystical green eyes, and I could see it; the creativity and potential that dwelled inside her spirit.
I couldn’t help but attempt to gaze a little longer in her portals to her own individualistic views and goals that emitted such fire that my body began to perspire. And in only another second, the immense heat vanished as if it was just a dream. The woman had gone through the entrance of society, and the person who came out on the other side were not the same. Similar, but not identical. Just like everyone else here, she had lost her drive, her fire, her creativity and her… color, after exiting the door on the other side of the entrance.
Ever since I woke up from that atrocious nightmare, I always thought about what society’s systems really do to us, what people do to us if we give in to their reign. Do we really conform and lose our “color” as we migrate through this universe? At the end of the day, would people really even go to college for eight or more years if someone never informed them, “You have to earn a living to survive.”? If someone doesn’t make a living, does that make that person lazy or useless? Does everyone choose a career because they have a burning passion for the field, or precisely because it acquires more income in the current economy? If someone chooses a job only for the monetary gain, and not for one’s interests, is it bad? I mean, who doesn’t want to have enough money to be stable through life? Even if you loathe your high paying job, you still work to earn money for things you don’t loathe, right? If someone chooses a job because of one’s own interest and fascination, but is not even able to take care of themselves, is that better than someone who is able to survive financially continuously doing a job he or she despises? Likewise, if you have massive amounts of revenue coming in, but you hate your job so much that you would rather choose to live under a bridge than work there; it can’t be the right way no matter how much money you make, right? And life is made for us to do what we love to do, isn’t it? When you stop doing things for fun, you might as well be dead, right? What is success anyway?