Dreaming of Reality
August 11, 2001
Believe it or not, this was actually written in a good mood. Or at least not an angsty one. Contemplative covers most of it. How’s that for trippy? ;)
During the school year, a friend of one of the roomies started on how there are two different types of people: dreamers and realists. She rather accurately (in my mind) pegged my two roommates, so I asked her what she thought I was.
As you can probably guess, I’m rather... obsessive/neurotic about how others view me. This at least was a pretty harmless area in question. I could deal with either. Thing is, I couldn’t even guess which she’d go for. I think she’d seen, or at least heard about, my webpage. And fifty+ stories about gargoyles, cyberpunks, and whatnot, well, that’s pretty heavily for dreams. But realist.... Hey, take a long look over My Shelf. Almost half of the entries are angst related. I tend to be cynical with bouts of depression. But then again, that can come from finding that reality is far from what my dreams should be. So I guess in retrospect, maybe I was challenging her to tell me I am a dreamer. Or to find out why I’m a realist. It’s a very circular argument. Too much for my mind right now: I’m too tired to try to rationalize either.
She told me I was a realist. I’m still not sure I’m happy with that diagnosis. For one, I firmly believe in the power to one’s dreams. They are the pathway to creativity, a doorway to distraction, and a block against the dangerous types of depression. But in turn they can do some nasty stuff to your mind. Lose a dream, realize that it can’t be/isn’t reality, and the resulting depression can be lethal. Get too lost in a dreamworld, and you lose all reality.
Always, ALWAYS a double-edged blade. You don’t want me to start ranting on about the dis/advantages to reality. THAT is too depressing.
So anyway, why this came up again. Had a good 4, 5 hour session of hanging out with the guys. We watched a lot of TV, talked a bit of computerese, and just.... hung out. But they’re gone, and I’m just sitting here practically basking in serenity. Ok, bad word choice. But for the first time in awhile I feel BALANCED. No nutty urges to burst into a giggling fit, or try to maul the @#!%$^ who is my doctor, just simply at peace. Just by having those nuts around helps realign life to a more positive, healthy really, position.
And good grief, that sounded scarily new aged style trippy. I’m not describing it well. Not to mention drifting off into a tangent. What I mean to mention is that Quietus (he used to be Datafage, but let’s not get onto that tangent) made a crack that I’m always smirking.
My first thought was that mine honorable proofreader needs to skim the pages I don’t ask him to proof a bit more often. I know he’s seen a few, but still.
However, things suddenly clicked. Of course I spend my time around my friend smirking. It’s because they make me so balanced. When things are going right and you’re content with life and all those around you, a good smirk is more than justified.
So thanks, guys.
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