As a bookworm, people often accuse me of living in a world so completely far away from human reality that they’re not sure whether I’m real or not. Which reminded me of…
“You’re wrong. She is a phony. But on the other hand you’re right. She isn’t a phony because she’s a real phony. She believes all this crap she believes. You can’t talk her out of it.” Breakfast at Tiffany’s
Do we have to conform to the world’s expectations for a semblance of normality? Must we keep our authentic (creative) selves shut away tightly in a little box so that we can feel suppressed and suffocated till the day our bodies expire? Or can we just be. Be.
You be you. Me be me.
Being free is a basic human need. Ideally, we should be able to feel free whether we have family duties, are in a relationship or a part of the working environment. Ideally. But people are always chaining and shackling, stifling others from expressing who they really are. Perhaps it’s a human thing. The desire to control or tame another. The desire to stay in safe spaces and never really feel alive. Maybe it’s fear. Bookworms tend to have an ability to subvert that though. Our imaginations extend to all sorts of weird and wonderful corners of this world and others, which lets us be a little more elastic than the average person. We welcome those spaces for others and ourselves to find and free ourselves. And if we happen to bring out the weird in each other, well then perhaps that is a part of our authentic selves too.
Studying Children’s Literature, particularly through a psychoanalytic lens, gets all sorts of strange remarks from the ignorant and jaded shell-people of this land who zombie lurch through their lives. “Grow up. The real world isn’t a book or movie kid. That glass is empty.” Yeeeeah…unfortunately, as Goth as I can sometimes be, I can’t let go of my imagination. To me, imagination is inextricably linked to possibility and that beautiful thing called hope. It’s the essence of who we are. Living the humdrum life, we tend to forget to nurture it. We forget to dream. And we forget where those dreams can take us if only we’d open ourselves up to the little sparks (magic or energy?) calling our names. Pleading with us to find our potential. A potential that each and every one of us has.
I like being a cartoon character. Or walking through my life like I just stepped out of a movie or tv series. I like structuring my deadlines according to building a DIY Millennium Falcon that has the Jedi fate balanced in my hands.
I like having my imaginative abilities to get me through the boring, the real or the just plain bland.
Sometimes life is full of suspense.
Sometimes it’s funny. Brain and mouth often not connected.
Sometimes it’s a little…dramatic.
But mostly…it’s just super fun. Especially if you actually have a tiara and don’t mind the stares while you’re drinking your morning cup of coffee.
And did I mention how badass it can be? Like when people don’t respect personal space in queues. #petpeeve
So if you’re a bookworm or you have a colorful imagination, DON’T let anyone belittle you for it. You don’t need to conform, and you definitely don’t need to be like everyone else out there. Be yourself. And if you believe you have super powers that just haven’t been unleashed yet…well, as long as your particular type of crazy isn’t harming anyone then just go with it. Be the person who changes lives and makes living fun again. And maybe you’ll find others out there who remind you to take the rainbow instead of the train. 😉