Law school's assignments and readings have become a little more tedious; the classes have become so monotonous that my ears can't help but drown out class discussions and recitations. God help my grades, then.
When I'm in Veritas (our classroom which is located at the 4th floor of our school building), I often find myself staring out of the glass windows, that is, when the blinds aren't drawn. Otherwise, I'd just be staring at the wall behind the current professor's head and dream.
Hah! So times haven't really changed. I'm still physically present in class but my thoughts are elsewhere. I don't think it's normal since all my other classmates can thoroughly immerse themselves in the Rules of Court and what-nots. I, on the other hand, dream about actors, and singers, beaches, and Volkswagon autos, and musical compositions, and going to Ireland, and Korea, being swept off my feet by the perfect man ever, and... everything that I can never have and everything that can never happen to me, really.
*Sigh.* Just thinking about having to stop daydreaming and creating stories in my head depresses me. It's only in my head that "things" happen. The hopeless dreamer. Or hopeless romantic. Suit yourself. My classmate told me to stop reading novels and to stop watching movies or series which cater to the emotions. She said these catalysts will only make me idealistic and, obviously emotional. I got the impression that those "states of being" have to be avoided, just like the plague.
And I think to myself, wouldn't that be really hard - to be devoid of emotions, I mean, and to be so cynical that all you can see are the sharp angles and lines of everything around you? Angles, lines in all harshness. But with dreams, idealism, and a heart, I can play with these angles and lines and turn them into something fun and creative. Or something impossible. Fiction. Whatever you fancy. But still, the life is there. My life and my heart are there.
I don't want to live in a cold, indifferent world. But if I continue dreaming about impossible things, I'd find myself in a backwater town, hanging clothes early in the morning while whistling country tunes. But if I quit daydreaming, I'll turn into an unimaginative old prude who's as robotic as the Energizer bunny.
Daydreams lull me to sleep. They calm me somehow. They cheer me up when I'm down; they entertain me when there's nothing to do. They give me my healthy dose of sadness at times, even. But they also distract me like crazy, as if my brain is on daydream autopilot and there's nothing I can do but watch the images. And everything gets drowned out, even the important things. In that case, they blind me.
As anticlimactic as ever, I know now what to do: I have to let go. Grow up. Forget the fantastic stories in my head.
It's going to be a hard withdrawal issue. But I just have to deal with it.
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1 comment:
Why? Who said we have to let go - of daydreaming, of fiction, if you may.
We can always dream of paradise without having to bother if it does really exist. Who cares I say. It's all in our heads fine. So?
It's that part of us, in our heart of hearts, that we wish for something - the ephemeral or the eternal - still, we all have our own worlds our minds can create that nobody could take away from us. It's ours ours we say!
If we would be cerebral about it, I would argue my case as - it's all about definitions (state of mind?) - or maybe more in taking a different lens at things, at life - one that is more appreciative perhaps?
They'd perpetually say, count your blessings.
And I always do. And somehow, it makes me happy. It makes my world a little bit close to that place of bliss I created in my mind.
With friends, with families - with idealism?
I like the word hope.
If you take a different view at life, it somehow gets a little bit better.
:)
And yeah separating fiction based on romantic novels - from you current reality would also help (if it only makes you miserable).lines should be drawn somewhere. ;)
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