SIMONE VIRZI — Copy Editor
Maybe as a kid you wanted to be Superman or a princess. Perhaps your goal was to fight dinosaurs or zombies. Regardless of what you wanted to be, money, education and whether your dream was even realistic never mattered. You dreamed without limitation. However, by the time you make it to college those dreams are history, along with your Scooby-Doo lunchbox.
What happened to those dreams? When did we become so materialistic and technology-obsessed? What happened to those simple days? When you broke a rule you got grounded instead of arrested. The closer I get to legally being able to purchase and consume alcohol, the more I wonder what happened to the 10-year-old version of myself.
The truth is, like most of us, I’ve changed since I was 10. My friends and hair color have altered a number of times throughout the years, although my height has been about the same. Life was so much easier at that age, and yet at the time, I thought it was difficult. Back then, I did well in school, acted like I was older than I was and thought boys were stupid. OK, maybe not that much has changed. But during that time, I had dreams. I was going to live in Manhattan, marry an attractive rich (Italian) man and have a beautiful family.
I was going to live happily ever after.
Today, I have more issues with men than I care to bore you with; I cannot stay in a healthy relationship to save my life. I also have more knowledge of real estate and know to live in an apartment with a breathtaking view of Central Park costs two arms and a leg. I often debate whether or not I want to have children. What happened? Did I grow up or did I stop dreaming?
I believe the two go hand-in-hand. As you grow up, you realize your dream of becoming a Ghostbuster is not exactly realistic, although you’re still convinced it would be the coolest job ever. Our dreams die as we get older. Some people develop new dreams while others just become too serious. It simply depends on you as a person.
As some people grow up, they realize their dream of being the third Mario Brother was silly, and they wonder what they were thinking. They find themselves being sculpted by society and focus on money, for example. Maybe they really want to become a teacher, but becoming an accountant will give them a higher salary, so they compromise. They also may believe dreaming is for children; it is time to grow up and stop living in “lala land,” where unicorns prance around and candy grows from trees. Their priorities alter, and their dreams fade away.
Then there are the people who continue to dream. Like John Lennon, “you may say I’m a dreamer.” In fact, one of my new goals is to try karaoke. I’m more than happy to sing in the car, but to sing in front of an audience is scary. I also have a slight tendency to make up my own words. Take Akon’s song “Dangerous” for example. I was convinced the lyrics were “That girl is a raptor” instead of “bad girl.” Oops! Before I was corrected (several times) I unknowingly sang the song like a total idiot. If I messed up lyrics most people find simple, I’m pretty sure I would mess up karaoke. Yet it is on my “to do” list; I just need to have enough courage (and drinks) in my system first.
I have plenty of other dreams as well, from swimming with dolphins, to backpacking in Europe, to purchasing an antique dark mahogany desk where I can write. I would love to have a house on the water and a guy who laughs at my bad jokes and can handle my circus of a family. Maybe these dreams sound silly or unrealistic, but they’re my dreams nonetheless. Once my dreams become reality, I’m going to continue to have new dreams; without them, what’s the point of getting up in the morning, besides to grab that cup of hazelnut coffee?
Without dreams, or goals, or ambitions, what’s the point of living?