The Dreamer

The Tales of a Self-acclaimed   Dreamspinner

When life gets too hard to deal with, I take a break from the real world and escape to a place I’ve carefully fabricated with my ever-wandering imagination, where fantasy and make-believe shelter me from the pain of disappointment and frustration, and a lone star shines brightly, like a beacon of hope. Then before I knew it, I start dreaming again, and hoping it will come true.

I’m opening the threshold of my world. You’re welcome to come in. Together, let’s twirl castles in the air. 

People say I’m a dreamer. My head is always floating somewhere, out of the world. And most of the time, I don’t get half the things done once I start weaving fantasies out of thin air.  ~An excerpt from the Confessions of a Certified Daydreamer J

The quote above says it all. I’m a dreamer, night and day and all the times in between. Nothing makes me happier than sitting in a corner, staring vacantly at space and filling my head with fantasies. Never mind the glazed look in my eyes and the blank, almost silly expression on my face; it’s the thoughts swirling in my head that will interest you more.

Oh boy, don’t I sound like a complete lunatic?

You can stop it right here, turn your back now and run away. And whatever you do, don’t spare me a glance. Go on, I won’t hold it against you. I would even close my eyes while you are at it. *eyes closed*

*eyes opened* Oh, but you’re still here. Amazing! I guess you’re fine then. If you can take my nonsense blabber without scampering away, then maybe you should continue this journey into my wholly made-up world. However, I’m giving you fair warning. So don’t blame me if you come out of here with your head whirling and your eyes streaming with tears. Ahem. Tears, mind you, caused by boredom and disappointment.

Ha-ha. Just kidding. But let me tell you as well that I have an extremely peculiar and somehow twisted sense of humor. You may discover in the long run that you and I don’t share the same perception of all things funny. Why, I even find the most mundane and mediocre appealing.

Anyway, I’m not giving you any idea on what to expect out of this gibberish talk. Let’s just say, I want you to get curious. And maybe, I could surprise you some along the way.

And oh, have I told you I always write about my self? This is all about me.

Me, me, me.

You got it right, mate. This one’s personal, like a journal. Ironic, right? I can see you in my mind now, eyebrow raised in a perfect arc and a sneer in your lips, muttering something like, “Why the hell would this idiot turn her diary into a blog, baring her private thoughts for the entire world to see? Can’t she just keep it to herself? Why, she’s a nobody. What makes her think there’s anything interesting about her life?”

Uh-oh. Bite my tongue! That sounds a bit too harsh and mean. My alter ego would absolutely say something to that effect. You see, she’s sarcastic and cynical and well, a little peevish. But surely, you’re nothing like her?

I really hope so. And since you’re so agreeable, let’s shake hands like new-found friends and let me take you to my carefully fabricated world. Failte.