My Dreams Are Fading

I dream and my dreams seemed enough to make me forget a life which is not turning out to be what I dreamed it would be. Maybe the problem is I am expecting too much of my dreams. Maybe I expect the world to give way to my dreams and when the world seems unmoved by my dreams, when it seems not to care at all for the fruits of my creative imagination, I grow increasingly dejected and lose my will to dream.

This is very sad indeed and I grieve for my lost dreams, the fading meanderings of my imagination, trampled underfoot by the cynicism of realistic thinkers who cannot see beyond the concrete walls of their own imprisoned minds. This I know, the death of my dreams means the death of hope for something that soars above the dark clouds, the end of a fruitful life that has survived cynicism and apathy, the struggle of a mind to resist the zombie-like subservience to irrational reactions to something that sees beyond mere seeing. This I know, and this I cannot allow. I will continue to dream, to see things no other eyes could see, to live beyond being wrong as judged by those whose dreams have been hijacked by so-called success.

Ching's World is a dream, a dream that goes beyond the Philippines, of Cebu, Dumaguete and Cagayan de Oro City.