Sitting on the sand by the shore of the sea, I let a soft sigh escape while watching the comes and goes of waves. In the distance, clouds overshadow the sun as a reminder that summer was far away, so shining on in all its glory was only allowed every now and then. Closing my eyes, I let myself be taken by the sound of lapping waves. I could feel the cold winter wind on my face, making the trails of my hair dance along with it.
In my mind, a whirlwind of thoughts was raising a lot of questions, but among them all, a few constant ones would remain. “Where would dreams go to?” “What happened to all those people who ever dreamed of taking on the world?” “How did great inventions, one way or another, end up in a sort of dream’s graveyard?” I went that far in my pondering; I even imagined how this dream’s graveyard would be and, more so, what sort of unfulfilled visions someone might find there. The Dream’s Graveyard is a place so rich and so poor at the same time. There, I saw half-finished paintings, books whose endings were never written, and so many other unfinished inventions that might have changed the world into a better place to live if their creators had made more effort to bring them to life.
Walking through that place, I perceived traces of discoveries that would never come to life. I saw over some debris, written on a piece of paper, that there was a cure for cancer. Surprisingly, it was based on a heavy dose of a vitamin people commonly take. I kept on walking, and not far from that piece of paper, I spotted a tube-shaped machine. It was transparent and had a noticeable mingle of cables inside, and all these cables process the carbon dioxide found in the car’s combustion, which is frequently released into our environment through the tailpipe, changing the oxygen composition. The machine's function was to transform the carbon dioxide into a non-contaminant gas.
Shocked by everything I came across, just a few meters from that machine, I spotted a sort of book that stood out among some debris and looked like a sort of manual. It was intact and kept in good shape, even though it was obvious how long this book had been there, unopened. Covered all over by dust, the abandonment of the latter was noticeable. I could not contend with myself; I was intrigued by its appearance and the way it looked so undamaged. Just by staring at it, I was filled with curiosity. I had to see what was in that sort of manuscript, so I took it into my hands.
It was a bit heavier than I would have imagined. I opened it to read it, and the more I read it, the more I was inspired by it. For me, it was an invitation to believe in the impossible. Quickly, I realized it was just a movie script. The writer had a great imagination and a unique talent for the ideas in this script that could revolutionize the world; however, once again, other great inventions had been left behind and forgotten. I stood there, right in front of such a magnificent piece of work, watching it considerately. I thought that people in the world had no idea what this script could do to their lives if only they read it.
I opened my eyes and saw the little sunlight that the clouds allowed to shine. The sun was hiding away more and more, and night was about to come. The wind was also getting colder, and I started to think about how much I missed summer. There are so many things we take for granted that we only appreciate them when they are long gone. Likewise, I thought of the dream’s graveyard and how I forgot to take the writer’s name of that fabulous script. At twilight’s arrival, homesickness invaded me, but I pushed away that feeling as soon as I saw it coming. I wondered, What would have happened to those people who had dreamed of all these things? Also, I asked myself, What would have happened to them if instead of giving up, they had dared to look up to their own future? What would have occurred to them if only they had seen the impact their creative inventions could have had on humankind? So I closed my eyes and heard the striking lapping of waves once again. The wind, even though it was more freezing, could not stop me from dreaming awake.
Suddenly, I saw myself walking on a lonely street. Only one or two people could be seen walking over there. Looking up to the distance, a clock could be spotted on the top of one tower; it seemed small from where I was, but I thought that, if, being this far, the clock looked that way, perhaps it truly was much bigger than I saw it. So then, I decided to get there and contemplate it closer. I started walking in the direction of that tower when, right on the path, one of the few people caught my attention.
She was walking on the opposite side of me, and even though she was not quite near, she was slowing down. Her walk was different from the others; it denoted strength and elegancy; she walked with the confidence that only people who have overcome great battles have learned that mistakes are mere deviations on the road to success, and that caught all my attention intensely. She had such confidence in her eyes and a triumphant air I have not seen very often in other people.
She fixed her eyes on me; in that moment, there was no need for words, and I simply smiled. Her appearance said it all, and her confidence made me feel sure everything would be all right, while her sudden grin would invite me to resist a little more. She passed by my side, softly patting my shoulder as she kept walking. I stood there in the middle of the street, watching her leave, until I lost sight of her.
I open my eyes and it was dark night already. My hands were almost frozen, but a feeling of determination filled me up. I knew that, even though nightfall was just looming, breaking dawn was even closer, and that same row and fiercely lapping of waves would be peaceful and calm in the next morning, and a shining sun bathed them, inviting me to live for a dream, to live passionately, for dreaming and living relentlessly are the best ways to spend our lives.
