My, my. What a dreamer
On occasion, I get bored of being just another twenty year old trawling the cyber space.
And then I carefully bunch up my hair, stick a pencil through the bun and put on my specs. I open a word document while twirling another pencil through my fingers, pretending that I am some famous associate editor of a world famous magazine wading through a series of deadlines. The music on my player goes from soft rock to blues-y jazz, I sit a little more upright and pretend that I must create an enchanting article out of nothing within the next hour or so. I muse, there is much laughing aloud and a little bit of muttering under my breath. For that night, I am a distinguished writer/photographer whose words are adored by many and revered by few.
Some days I am a careful composer, whose conducting stick is forever lost in some crevice of the room. I lead with my hands and expressions, till the symphony reverberates through the entirety of my tiny universe. Others, I am quite the ballerina, with my delicate moves and perfect pirouettes. And then there are those days where I am the heroine of every single movie I have seen. I've been Lost in Translation, faced Vertigo, danced around the Parisian streets with Amelie, faced many terrors in Narnia and ultimately come home safely to be Mrs. Dalloway.
And then I carefully bunch up my hair, stick a pencil through the bun and put on my specs. I open a word document while twirling another pencil through my fingers, pretending that I am some famous associate editor of a world famous magazine wading through a series of deadlines. The music on my player goes from soft rock to blues-y jazz, I sit a little more upright and pretend that I must create an enchanting article out of nothing within the next hour or so. I muse, there is much laughing aloud and a little bit of muttering under my breath. For that night, I am a distinguished writer/photographer whose words are adored by many and revered by few.
Some days I am a careful composer, whose conducting stick is forever lost in some crevice of the room. I lead with my hands and expressions, till the symphony reverberates through the entirety of my tiny universe. Others, I am quite the ballerina, with my delicate moves and perfect pirouettes. And then there are those days where I am the heroine of every single movie I have seen. I've been Lost in Translation, faced Vertigo, danced around the Parisian streets with Amelie, faced many terrors in Narnia and ultimately come home safely to be Mrs. Dalloway.
But I am thankful that when these fantasies are done, others always come to take their place.
In my head, I still think of him as Angel! :D I was reading Tess of the D'Urbervilles in school around the same age that I watched Buffy on Star World and I must say, everytime I read Angel Clare, my head wud involuntarily jump to an image of Angel from Buffy! ;)
ReplyDeleteAnd then he has to go from playing poor lost soul puppy-eyed vampire to playing solid, super-reliable, square-jawed Booth! Really now!
Turns out the guy's not all that awesome in real life. But well, that doesn't really count in our personal worlds inside our heads. :)
In my head, I'm often one of the Wild Thornberries! :D
Miranda Priestly?
ReplyDelete@TUIB: He is Angel forever. I must have spent countless hours watching reruns of Buffy and then later Angel just because of him.
ReplyDeleteEven if he does cheat on his wife in real life, I'd have him.