Not Your Typical Big City Dream

The constant noise, the alarms blaring of shouts and yelling.

The congestion beaming with pride.

Cars rolling on pavement, skyscrapers as tall and hovering as any tree can dream of.

The noise—ever so loud it lulls you to a sleep. Realising it’s not comforting or peaceful as people make it out to be.

Not as people were dreaming of.

I don’t want that kind of world anymore.

Maybe I never did but I was fed into the idea that your dreams can only be found in big, dreamy cities.

Maybe for them, but not for me.

When you are young you encounter so many blasts, hear buzzes here and there, left to right, and your own voice is diluted to a single hum.

It’s just out of reach; beneath the background.

It blurs and you’re being told by whispers ever so lightly—but persistently—that your dreams lie in places where the grass does not grow but glass-domed ceilings illuminate the light.

Yours lie in cities so busy, the bustling crowd is meant to be calming. (It’s not).

It’s meant to encourage you to keep moving, stay on your feet, no time to rest. (It’s death-like)

Go, go, go! No time to ZzzzZ.

Maybe for them, but not for me.

We were taught that big cities are where your big dreams lie. It soars.

It can be, but it doesn’t need to be.

I dream of a quiet life.

The looming sky greeting with its rhythmic morning breeze.

Dreams can blossom anywhere, even when all you can see in the horizon is a mountain so high it reaches the clouds.

As I got older, I realised I value a quieter life, when thoughts meet nature and the turbulence of life doesn’t jolt you awake.

When the demands of people don’t stir me into restlessness.

None of that.

I think my dreams lie elsewhere; in the quietness of dawn.

-Dhea P.E.