There's just some days when waking up from a reverie seem too unfounded a task. And indulging in daydreams present a more practical occupation instead. I know this is in the least bit advisable, especially in this dog-eat-dog reality. But sometimes I just can't help but let go of my eternally governmental self and set free my inhibited reckless self. So I positioned myself in a dream-forgiving stance, stared out the window onto the happening street, and let myself be consumed with unlikely visions of my personal paradise -- as I willingly enter the daydreamer's world.
As hours went by unnoticed, and as chats coursed in and out of my consciousness, I remained a willing prisoner of my fantasies -- feeling limitless and heeding no importance to the day's demands. I travelled to Bangkok and watched the sunset in Langkawi. I wore trendy clothes in Tokyo and made friends with fellow travellers in Kyoto. I put up a comfortable hostel and spent my days lounging in the sand. I carried my world everywhere and carried myself with poise and confidence. It was intoxicating. It was addicting. It was everything but unpleasant.
And then, feeling satisfied with the frolic of my imagination, I slowly pulled back and woke up to my current reality. Although my present isn't that unpleasant, it, no doubt, doesn't stand a hair's chance on my dreamy future. But it's real and it's here and it's what I can cherish now. But maybe someday I'll turn those dreams into reality and it will be a million times better. But until then, I'll be slipping in and out of the world only I know of -- waiting, gathering until enough courage beams in.
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