The neverending script

Sometimes I wonder whether I'm doing the right thing. Whether I truly am supposed to be a lawyer. Maybe I'm pursuing the wrong career. I've always wanted to write. Ever since I was a child I have had a fascination for stories. I was a bookworm and as a grew older my love for reading grew. My love for stories lead me down the eventual path of writing them myself. I've written poetry, prose, short stories and I've even started writing a novel (which i never finished and is now buried somewhere with my old diaries). 

I know that I'm good at telling stories. I love it. People who listen to them love hearing me. It might be racy stories about my sexcapades or fantasy about elves and goblins for my kid cousins. It's never been about what kind of story, but about telling something that is close to me. Stories come from what you experience. They might be something you've experienced first hand, or something a friend or an acquaintance has gone through. But the best stories come from your imagination. You're imagination takes your experiences, anything that has gone through your mind, that your eyes have seen, your senses have felt, and processes them and churns out stories that can range from utterly ridiculous to supremely profound. 

I suppose the best kind of stories are the ones that you lived. Shakespeare said that all the world's a stage and we are merely actors. I think that each actor is also his own playwrite. He can try his best to memorize his dialogue but the one sure thing is that he can never be one hundred percent certain what the other actor might say. So the play of life is a constant improvisation. Sometimes you're tempted to write little skits imagining what the other actor or actors might say. I know I do it all the time. I enjoy these little stories that I have in my head. Sometimes they include people around me, in circumstances that might be possible. Then sometimes they include people i might never meet and circumstances i hope will never happen. Either way I love those stories. Some could go on for weeks, some only last a few days. But the common thread in these stories is me. Because I can put myself in circumstances that I can only dream about, in opportunities that I wish were real, and those which i'm too scared to make true. 

When i was younger my mom used to say i lived in a dream world. She would catch me staring out into nothingness, oblivious to whatever she might be saying. I am much more conscious these days about my day dreaming, and my acting talents have only improved with age. But my mother was right. I did live in a dream world, and i still do. But the extent to which i live there, the duration, the intensity depends on what my real life is at that moment. Right now, my real life feels tedious and boring. So I retreat further and further into my dreamworld. The down side to this is that further i go, more i leave behind those in the real world. I isolate myself in my day dreams pushing away all human contact. 

Most who have met me think I'm very extroverted. Little do they know how much of an introvert I am... 

However i do crave company. Yet it's always hard to do something about it. Because it's oh so comfortable in the dream world. Everything i want to hear, want to feel, want to have, is there. 

I could go on about this for a very long time. 

Unfortunately, 40% of my grade depends on the paper I have to submit tomorrow. How I wish I could make up a story about Competition Law! 

A bientôt