You see, I'm a dreamer.
Everyday I prepare myself for a long day of reality.
A long day of socializing with people I'm not accustomed to,
Going to places I sometimes don't want to be at but have to,
Standing on public transports longer than I expected to.
I can't wait to go home everyday.
The comfort of my four walls—
Familiarity of my PJs—
Occasional screeching bus tire sounds from my corridor window.
Reality is tough. It can sometimes be exhausting.
And, like a routine, before I tuck into bed—
I'd like to think of it this way: I switch reality off.
Just like the emotional switch in Vampire Diaries that I wish I had,
I disconnect from what is real.
Dreaming, hoping, wishing — it really is a routine.
I can tear up from creating a fictional reality of a tragedic scenario.
I can feel overwhelmed from words of encouragement I gave a fictional character to tell myself.
I can live in a non-existent reality, a parallel universe.
That, in itself, is temporary contentment.
So you see, I'm a dreamer.