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It’s the starting of a new day. The blue color of the sky in contrast with the yellow limelight sun rays penetrates through the white nestled curtains of my bedroom and design the grey wall with flying birds and some rested feet on branches of the trees.
The holidays seemed short but tender to heart. I could fulfill my heart’s desire that had been nudging my wistful mind for the past four years- Watching 102 movies, piled up, enlisted at the back of my notebook.
I am not a truant but school is not so enjoyable. Too many loud screams, chattering, and laughing make me feel exhausted. Senescence in no way is a part of its subject. And other than that I find no particular reason for visiting school with a purpose in my heart. No friends, no relation to bind me in the trap of their expectance. Intruding in other’s business is so not my thing. So goes for the others. They never bother to even look out for my existence. That’s why I don’t usually like to talk, I spend most of my time scribbling and imagining new characters with whom I make stories. These characters have always been a part of my life. They provide me the strength to be the person I am, with a purpose and an aim to behold my life with a reason to live.
Just like that, dreaming is another part of my hobby. I gather these memories to avoid any unnecessary thoughts that can take over my instincts rather than beckoning them into new heights. So, recalling my dreams I can live in another world where unbelievable, extremely rare, and imaginary creatures cover most part of its existence. They are a big reason why my stories feel so alive and magical, at least to myself.
Judging the positive sides of my entity, my life seems to be half-filled, but the feelings still remain at the bottom of the glass, almost empty. Maybe someday, one of these dreams can change my reality and make my life so filled, to never be empty.
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