Everyone has dreams of what they'd like to be when they grow old. A firefighter, a movie star, or a garbage man. If you say you didn't have any dreams or aspirations as a child while growing up, you are lying to yourself. Even if it was a flash-in-the-pan dream, you still had one.
My dream as a young child in Kindergarten was to be a garbage man. I have absolutely no idea why the sight of them coming down our street once a week to pick up our trash fascinated me, but it did. I was young, my mind immature. They had a weekly responsibility, and without them, trash would accumulate. Shit would hit the fan in a literal sense. No longer do I have that aspiration, as it died out around age 8 after realizing they get paid a meager wage to make ends meet.
I do still have one aspiration and dream that unfortunately I'll never be able to obtain. Sure, this may be a partial confession, but I'd always love to be in a band. Regardless how painful to the ear the band may be, I'd still love to be part of a music group. To play in a garage, or to rock out in front of tens of thousands in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil and Nurburg, Germany. Music for people to nod their heads to, raise their hands, or start a mosh pit. Sure, many people think they sound great when they sing, but once it's played back reality gives them a hard slap to the face and they're put in check. Letting my fingers run along the frets of the guitar, some of the tones are pleasing to the ear. Sounds and chord combinations I haven't heard before, but seem to work well in harmony.
Even if it were to make one album with other musicians and to play one show in front of one or ten thousand people, that would fulfill my dream. Alas, it won't happen. I sit in my shared living room in Honduras with my guitar plugged into my laptop, Garage Band running with specific amplifier settings, headphones plugged in, the world deaf from my music.
Perhaps it's fate. Perhaps it's not meant to be.
I've started to settle into a morning routine that seems to be working. My alarm wakes me at 5:35 in the morning, and I slap my hand on my phone in desperate hope to press the snooze icon. Usually it works, and my slumber continues until 5:45 in the morning. I then wake, grab my $3 blue-and-white sandals and my towel, attempting to make my way to the shower. After spending 4 minutes washing myself and an additional 11 sitting under the stream of hot water pouring atop my head, I dry off, dress, and proceed to the kitchen.
Coffee. Hot, delicious coffee. I grab my coffee "cone" to put my ground beans into, and start boiling a pot of water. After the water is boiling, it's poured into the cone, allowing the hot water to pull flavors from the beans themselves into a measuring cup. Once I hit about two cups of brewed coffee, I pour it into my thermos "Hydro Flask" (thank you for this Christmas gift... you know who you are. It's amazing) with an ice cube so the coffee isn't too hot for school. I then get my laptop, put it into my bag, attach my watch to my wrist, proceeding to the doorway of the house.
No, I don't eat breakfast. In fact, I don't usually eat any meals until I get home from school around 3 or 4 o'clock in the afternoon. This lifestyle helps me avoid indulging and overeating.
On a side note, when people say "time heals all", they speak the truth. Time does heal all.
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