This post, like most of my posts, is going to be about feelings. Unlike many other things that people need to live, like money or food, feelings are something that I have an abundance of. And that is troubling.I don't know when I started imagining and daydreaming but I know that I've been doing it for a long time. The earliest memory of daydreaming I can remember is when I was 8 or 9 years old, in school, and I was dreaming about the fun I would have had had I not been in school at that very moment. I dreamed about the world outside, the wonders it held for me, and I started drawing on my notebook. This has happened a lot since then. My notebooks have been filled with more drawings than actual notes. The desks I used to sit at got a lot of graffiti as well. When that wasn't enough, my friends' notebooks started filling up.
I'd like to think that this behaviour of mine was an important part of my childhood, and one that I'm very proud of. It's made me who I am, it got me my first job, and it made me look artistic and talented. It gave me an identity. Funny, because all I wanted to be when I was 14 was an Emo Goth.
Growing up and getting out of school, and then college, was the worst idea ever. Why didn't I find a Lazarus pit to stop me from ageing? But then again, there is no such thing. What is born must die.
It's not death that I'm afraid of. Ever since I renounced religion, I haven't been afraid of after life, or death, or people's reactions. I just grew out of it. And that's helped me be a better person. Without the constant worry of someone observing and judging my actions all the time, I get the freedom to do things with a peace and calm that I didn't have earlier. And I'm talking about everyday things. Things like sitting with my legs spread out, eating whatever I want, and not shutting up when asked to do so. Liberation is freeing for the mind. Having no soul is good.
Existentialism plagues me everyday. What am I doing with my life? What are others doing with theirs? Am I going in the right direction? Who answers these questions? The more I read and know, the more troubled I get. Are we even asking the right questions?Regardless of the storm in my brain, I still keep on dreaming. I dream of fantastic vacations, living life with a decent enough stash of money, having a "love of my life", killing off the archenemy, acting in a Hollywood or two, and shagging the actor/actress who is trending that week on IMDb. Dreams are simple. There is no start and stop. It just keeps going on and on. Mom woke you up before you could kiss that supermodel? No problem. Start dreaming when you travel on the metro. Go on, drool a bit. Everyone around you is in dream state as well.
Reality? Isn't that boring? Why be real when you can pretend ? An endless stupor of dreams where you are anything you could ever wish to be? Now, how much better could life really get?
