Recharging the batteries on the fast track.

All day, and often into the night I'm staring at my laptop or discussing brilliant (or not-so-brilliant) ideas. When I get home, my brain spins millions of ideas that frantically leap and spawn until I silently spill them into the recesses of forgetfulness with a wistful sigh. 

I got to thinking about the good old days, back when we were all going to be astronauts, firemen and doctors. Whatever happened to those impossible dreams and self-fulfilling stubbornness that would ensure their survival?  Does everyone grow up so quickly, or did I just take my time about it?  Where are the others that ignore the limitations and forge their own path to success?

I'm browsing the internet in a last-ditch attempt to get some sleep.  My mind is spinning with clutter. I feel out of touch with my generation. I've yet to meet "that person" in my generation with their life together, a steady job and a ticket to anywhere, and I've met hundreds of people since I moved out at the age of 19. We're forced to get smart in competing to be somewhere in life, because "better" doesn't cut it anymore.

It seemed to be hard to find someone to sip champagne and bubble concepts with, someone that hogs the couch and astounds me with their always brilliant, sometimes idiotic schemes and dreams, someone that's walking the same path between responsibility and exploration with a candid view on life, the universe and everything.

I long for a really good conversation. Not the typical, "hey, how are you" pleasantries but a witty banter that drifts through a dozen cups of coffee, and rides the waves of philosophy, theology, why blue is the best color ever and the 101 uses for soap. I'd love to sit across from a stranger and listen to the natural brilliance and beauty of an exciting, exotic life. I would be ecstatic to be dazzled, confounded and intrigued, and then I'd talk for a while, too.

Yet for all the stubborn resolve, the dreams and optimism, there are some things that just can't be forcibly found. Good conversation and breathing room are two of them. It takes the right setting, the right person, and the right moment to rock the world around you.

And so in the meantime I lay unclothed. I stare at the ceiling, neither tossing nor turning but struggling against the push of unfulfilled desires. The night drones on and my sleepless eyes blink once, twice, thrice.