Boy to man, man to boy

When I was a boy, I'd dream to escape.

I'd let the little books or films really shape my day to day.

I would watch maybe a movie a year.

Or with books, I'd read maybe 3 books a year?

All fictional.

Deltora Quest.

Pokemon.

They really stuck with me.

Worlds of fantasy, so far from our own except the very words in English they were written in.

Day to day, I felt caged by my naivety.

Of course, I knew nothing of it.

I would play with my hands, re-enacting scenes or battles, soundtrack naturally and very creatively playing.

Most of the battles I would allow myself, or better put, I won.

For the mundane day to day reality, contrasted by

the exciting yet very naive and very selective realms of my imagination.

Little did I know, I was already forming a seed of:

blissful creativity on one side, yet subconscious facades on the other.

Duality in all things, right?

Doing homework and tuition work.

Fearlessly flying a dragon to find a Sword noone else could find at 10 years old.

"Listening" to my father's criticisms.

Cuddling a huge Charizard to sleep after spending a night out in the rain.

We are our own narrators of our lives.

As I grew older, I didn't realise for many years, that I was doing the same thing.

But it wasn't finding lost weapons or flying through the air on a magical beast.

Hanging out late with strangers who I thought were cool.

Smoking a cigarette, imagining how I looked.

In between two fingers? That seems right.

And yet, all of this scales beyond.

And it's all meant to be.

The dragon, the cigarette and everything in between or entirely off planet,

it's all meant to be.