Expectation looms and dies and dies and dips and reappears and each time is greater or lesser or just completely unexpected.
And we greet or we run or we seek desperately .
Or we sigh.
And when we wear it everyone can see plainly and like a siren for those we dream for and deliberate and repeat and those that eat up all our time.
And we wear sunglasses darker than the thoughts that keep us from sleeping or we scream it out because we know and defy those that have loved and lifted and raised and helped and made us who we are, we walk away from them, knowing that that's what we are doing and we believe, we believe because you're essentially alone if you don't believe and all the other dreams are slowly not ever going to be a reality so we cling to the one that doesn't require a salary or a home or a principle or a motivation or even an inspiration - it just makes you feel good
Some people get it right - some people don't and then that becomes enough.
Who says?

Little frogs are everywhere,
And their limbs are impossible and so we watch.
We are bored, we haven't jumped enough,
We've never jumped.
How hard is it to rip open your lip with a tin opener?
How hard is it when you punch a old man who's nose is red, red like the canyons in his eyes and his voice?