Sweet Daydreams & Bitter Reality

If I were truly extraordinary, where are the tornadoes taking me somewhere over the rainbow? Where are the alien invasions? Where are the flaming Chimaeras? The time travelling? The magical wands? The supreme lord of evil whom you have to defeat?

Those people on the street, avoiding everyone’s critical eyes, walking in speed-walk. They’re suspicious characters. I eeeever so want to be a suspicious character as well! I want to have a mind-blowing secret, one that changes my life forever, but not a realistic lie, but a weird, odd, eccentric, ludicrous tale that’s truly true! If only this could happen! If only I could be a wizard fresh from Hogwarts, keeping my head down and avoiding any run-ins with death eaters at twilight, roaming the cobbled streets of London, or a half-blood on a quest in California, making small miracles of nature and avoiding fire-breathing sows.

IF ONLY.

The words that rule my life. The rules that swallow me whole. The realistic world mocking my dream that will never come true, even though I ever so want it to happen.

A summer night’s dread, I would call it. Summer night, oozy and drunk with the longing to sleep, collapsing on my bed of soft blankets and fluffy pillows, closing my eyes, and entering my dream world. I slay dragons. I conjure magic. I meet my favourite mythological heroes and made up creatures. I prowl the forest of eyes, fly in the sun-setting sky, and escape evil with nothing more than a few scratches.

Then, alas, I wake, shivering, forgetting, the dream already rapidly oozing from my head and getting lost into the world of nothing and everything. I dread this. I dread also, knowing it can never happen.

BUT I BELIEVE IT DOES. A sentimental pep talk would say in your heart, but it is truly INSIDE MY MIND, layered with millions, if not gazillions of thoughts at the same time…

It’s why I read. I sometimes believe that if I read enough I could be swallowed into the books. Be part of them, literally. This, in my heart, and mind, I know is not going to work, but I do it anyway. I want to believe it to be true.

That’s why I am so weird, odd, eccentric, childish, and cliché. I am a live character looking for the right story.

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