As a Normal Person

Anything which humans have ever achieved, I believe, comes from a dream. Dreams can really be found in almost any place under various forms. To a child, it’s the state of ableness; to an athlete, it’s a passion; to a leader, it’s a vision; to any normal person, it can be any sort of future expectation, the goodness that lies await in the unknown. That’s why when Dr. Martin Luther King was well aware of its true name – a dream, his speech about his dream became everlasting. I am a normal person, someone who has seen his dreams busted over and over and over during the course of growing toward maturity.

Talking about dreams, we’d think of America (“American dream”). Ironically, I have been in America since I was 16 until now when I am nearly being able to buy alcohol legally, and these are the years for someone to develop his/her individuality to its highest. The period of being in America is the period of me witnessing my dreams leaving me at a ridiculous level.
I came to Montana, and a dream of high school got busted. No crowded classes full of pretty girls. No activities nor teams of any sort. No super easy homework that would guarantee easy A’s. My dream left me without any tiniest trace.
The dream of having top colleges inviting me to enroll was then busted. Despite the fact that I had tried my 150% capacity and earned an impossible result in an impossible school, no scholarship was coming to me at all. The one who tried best was nothing better than the biggest slacker.
Even when I got into UCM, I continued dreaming. Well, if my GPA was exceptional, if my performances were remarkable, then huge scholarships and good job offers would come embracing me, right? Unfortunately not, in the harshest way possible. I am here being a senior, and the graduation is drawing near. Yet I still do not see how any of my effort ever gets paid-off, as if for the whole time, I could simply mess around and would as well get through. It never was the matter of trying, it’s that after I try, I’d realize the vanity of my effort and see my dream get busted. Like any other student, there will be job searches, interviews, movings, and busted dreams await.
I can nearly see how my dreams look like: colorful balloons filled with water and still somehow fly high in the sky. When each of them gets pierced by a cold needle, the water would explode and fall down like teardrops. And when I see them I see great sadness.
In the end, all of those just to make me finally realize that I am just a normal person out there, losing sign of the dreams which are now long lost. Then, with this very reason of being normal, I once again see another dream afar. This time it seems bigger and a bit more vivid – as dreams normally would become. And I also see myself running below chasing it, in the most typical manner ever.