I'm not you.
I'm not him or her.
I'm not even like them.
But yet I am.
But even humans can dream, can't they?
To break the threads that hold us all together:
The human race.
I'm a dreamer and I have a dream.
Nothing like Dr. Martin Luther King.
But I would take a bullet for my dream.
I don't want to do what they're all doing.
I dont want them to try and do what I'm doing either.
I want to be the first
and only.
I want to cause shock and awe with my life.
I want to make people cry.
I want to make them sick.
But I want them, in the back of their minds, to love it all.
I don't want to go down in the books.
I want to end up in the kind of books you'd hide from your parents.
The kind that high school english teachers wouldn't dare mention to their students.
"Ode to the one that got away".
Got away from that standard.
The standard that defines human life.
Life by definition is the interval of time between birth and death.
Time never stops.
Time never slows down.
I won't be another tick from the clock.
I won't be another three lines in the obituaries.
But, no matter how hard I try
you'll see my name in the newspaper.
Two factors that bind the human race:
Life and death.
We all become an etching in a tombstone
or ashes in an urn.
But as "ashes to ashes"
become "dust to dust".
I plan on leaving with my name burned into the earth
as "the one with the dream".