It is said that the people we don't know that show up in our dreams, are merely people we've seen on the streets but never met before.
And it is said that on the inside we are all the same.
But I disagree
Because Adam ******* is still squeezing my chubby cheeks with his nostalgic hands, shaking violently at my ignorant little face whispering
"Stay here."  "Stay as long as you can." "For the love of god cherish it."
... But I never listened.
And most of you are probably thinking right now,
"What the hell does Billy Madison have to do with anything?"
I assure you, I am no medium.
But what I can tell you is, not only am I that boy; I am also the blue duck; and the little puppy that lost it's way.
I am not unique because I can quote a dumb movie I saw when I was nine.
And what differs me from you, can't even really be expressed by the English language.
But I will try
All of us can have similar emotions yes,
But we are not the same on the inside.
Because my heart is not a tandem bicycle, waiting for another passenger to pick up on my momentum for an smooth and easy ride.
And my brain has been telling me to just wait. "Your silver lining is on it's way."
what it failed to tell me is that line will be drawn in the sand only to be stamped out and washed away by beaches of people that claim they were only passing through.
How is it that I can say something as complex as that,
But I can never muster up enough courage to ask a girl to get together for a simple mutual gathering such as a cup of coffee.
I am living, breathing, regret.
And one day my best friend said to me; "Man, I wish I was you." "You're so much better than me in everything you do."
I was entranced by the audacity that someone would even consider trading places with me.
I thought "you may be my best friend. But you don't know Everything I've been through"
Just to think he would give up all his problems in life in exchange for my own. It's something else.
I replied, "Shut the hell up dude, you have a girlfriend."
But the more I look into it. Problems, are not something you can trade at a flea market.
because if you could fit problems into a box, there would be some boxes so heavy that it would burst the packing tape on the bottom end just as you tried to pick it up and move it.
Real problems are just misguided events that fog up the view of your dreams.
And as it would seem, these so-called "Dreams" have scattered upon the floor like a bag of five dozen marbles.
Meanwhile, people at the market start to crowd. So you put on a little charade.
Because you're so afraid of causing a public attraction that you'd rather try to brush everyone off with your "I'm fine's" and "nothing to see here's" when you could have just wasted less time and started to pick the marbles up one by one and fit them into a bigger box.
However in that instance, you did not stop to recognize nor study the faces of others that rushed to see if you were okay. And you did not notice they brought their boxes with them as well.
Some filled with dumbbells and some piled high with feathers.
So as far as dreams go, we are not the same.
neither is the shape or size of our boxes used to contain the items in which we hold so high in sensitivity that we think that thing we call a "dream" is the thing that matters most.
but what really matters most,
is the faces of others that we do remember when our dream does decided to roll around.