I Have A Dream

This post is about my dream life, at its present manifestation. I'll begin with a poem by Langston Hughes, which may be rather obvious in this context, but it's a still a good poem.


What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?


If money was of no issue, my dream would be to ride my bike. Literally across the United States, camping and stopping off where I saw fit to visit. This wouldn't be a vacation, I would simply do this until I got tired of it. And when you think about it, I'd always be putting in a day's work simply pounding the pedals. That sounds way better to me than standing around in some restaurant or sitting around in an office. Obviously there's no way to get paid for this sort of thing, but when asked most people will tell you that money does not matter. They will be lying to some degree, but imagine a world where work was focused more on self-fulfillment (i.e. biking fifty miles a day). Plus I would get to see so much of the United States, or even Mexico and South America.
But I can't do this. Mostly because I wouldn't be able to pay for food, and nutrition is kind of important when you're biking like that. Too bad really. If there was ever a point in my life where I could financially pull this off (big if), it would probably occur after I was physically capable of it. It seems sometimes that the phases of our life might be out of order. On the other hand, I am young. I have a lot of dreams, and if I'm lucky a few of them might reach fruition. In the meantime, I'll still be searching for that cosmic loophole.