A Knowing Smile

Mike is at basic training somewhere, Briana is in another country, and Juan has graduated and nearly has a real job. Aaron just finished recording an album with his band and Tiki is half a semester a way from a degree in Sociology (whatever that means). Yet here I am, sitting in a coffee shop or a low-paying job, dreaming but not moving. That's actually a perfect metaphor because when I dream in my sleep I don't physically do anything, aside from rolling slightly in one direction or another.
My first dream was that my life would culminate in me being Batman. That didn't pan out, so I adjusted my vision to something more realistic: I would become a professional baseball player. For various reasons, I swung at some bad pitches and balked at the cheese that had my name on it.
Whether as a consequence of the implausibility of my previous dreams or as a reaction to my aging mind, my next goal was to be like Blink 182. They sang openly about issues I only considered telling my best friend. And they did it in such a cool way. And with such dyed hair.
But Blink 182 was kind of a boy band. And I wasn't from California, anyways. And isn't it depressing (yet enraging) to be born into such a shitty situation? You try to do the right thing, but someone's always there to screw you over. You've been there, right? And so you decide to drink or do some drugs to pass the time. But this strategy of keeping to yourself has its own baggage. And you relinquish control of everything because you couldn't handle it with a clear head, but inebriation just makes it worse. So Alkaline Trio was there to openly ask these questions, even if their answers were a bit vague.
The past two were interesting in the sense that wanting to be like Alkaline Trio was a far closer step from wanting to be Blink 182 than, say, going from wanting to be Batman to waiting to be a baseball player.
I smoked a lot of weed in high school and took a break from serious dreaming. I was living in a haze which included different scenarios in which I was to become a successful drug dealer. Or, at least, an honorary Bone Thug.
When I came to, I wanted to become a writer. This was kind of a funny dream because I was already a writer. I mean, I wrote every day, usually twice: once immediately after school, then as a way to put off going to bed. I think it was the actual thought that put me off of the idea. I mean, once I considered the idea that I was a writer, as opposed to just being a kid who happened to write, I acquired this great burden of pressure and responsibility (though I didn't know if anybody even read what I wrote, or whether or not they took it seriously).
At some point, though, I got some glowing reviews from a few friends who were bored in a dorm and spent some of their time reading my rants. And once a girl had sex with me as a direct result of her striking up a conversation with me in which she said several flattering things about my writing. All this fan-fare (as I perceived it to be) turned my self image into that of a writer. My actual writing habits slowly trailed off.
So here I am, thinking that dreams are like ex-girlfriends in the sense that they all own a very specific and unique part of my heart, but I'm afraid to commit to one particular dream because I know that it is absolutely not possible for it to work with other dreams and they all fall into the same category. That's not very clear. Essentially, I'm making a hasty generalization in my mind. It's easy to say that my logic is fallacious, but it's like PTSD in that my fears aren't really logical (though they are self-fulfilling. If I'm so afraid of failing that I don't begin, it will be considered a failed venture). I've had dreams that didn't really make sense. I mean, Batman isn't really a level-headed career choice, nor is being a professional baseball player if my interests lies more in collecting baseball cards than in fine-tuning my skills.
What may be my problem is that I've been setting specific goals. "I want to be a writer" is a specific goal, but "I like to write" is simply a preference for a hobby or something that is only satisfied if I write (which isn't difficult) and doesn't take much commitment and will never be considered a failure (it can only be changed to something like "I no longer prefer to write").
So that seems to be a good solution for now. I like to play guitar, so I think I will. If I never join a band, at least I'll be pretty good from all that practice that I should be doing. And if I never write a book, at least I'll always be ready in case I decide to. That seems like a good mentality, right? I don't know how that view on dreams can be translated, metaphorically, back to the "girlfriends" thing. Let me try, though... I should work on virtues, like self-respect and dignity and whatnot, just in case I should ever decide to commit to something. And if I don't find that opportunity, at least I'll be clean-shaven and on my best behavior.
Oh, uh, "don't burn bridges," right? Yeah, real original. I suppose this is the kind of idiom that has to be learned through empirical evidence to be fully appreciated and understood.