Monday 21 April 2014

Reality is awful




I used to think growing up would be so cool, I would finally make decisions on my own.
And now that I have kind of grown up,  I have to make decisions on my own!
I have, of course, realised that it is not as glamorous as the thirteen year old me had thought.
We actually have to pause Doctor Who and make decisions, not involving KFC (most of the time), I did not sign up for this.
Reality is scary, and perhaps the scariest part is that you can't turn to your mother and ask her to make everything right. Apparently in 'Reality' it does not work like that.
Did I mention that I hate reality.
Life in fantasy is so much cooler, right? In it, I'm already a successful writer, with my books being turned into major movies, married to Shahrukh Khan, I have my own bookstore and scientists have developed a non fattening yet same tasting KitKat Chunky.
Stupid reality seeps in and soon you're talking about resumés, internships and *shudder* jobs.
I have come to loath the mere mention of the word resumé. 
I know, I know. We have to work hard to achieve our dreams and all that. But why can;t I just sit in my room, covered in a blanket and watch The Middle on a marathon, and have everything handed to me on a silver platter?
I'll settle for a normal, non silver platter too, Universe. Just saying.
I wish we could just shut our eyes and get transported into the future. I hate this middle part. Waiting for replies from companies, the horrible anticipation, the dejection and the 'Reality'.
Reality is mean. It shows you the mirror, brutally and honestly, which we do not appreciate (obviously). Reality showed me that I'm not the next J.K Rowling that people would read anything I write, that I'm not the only twenty year old who has opinions and fairly good writing skills (modesty!)
I hate people who say 'Reality Check' and then proceed to trample your dreams beneath their cruel feet. You maybe content with Reality, but not everybody is (by everybody, I mean me)
Reality check that!
I don't know what that was supposed to mean.
See, in my fantasy, I can say anything and it would be funny. In reality, I'm very lame.
I had to learn this truth the hard way.
Reality may not be that bad always, but it is sure not very rosy when you're a twenty year old student, on the brink of 'grown-up'hood, looking to find your place in the world, it is at this time when fantasy helps you get through the brutal reality, keeping you sane and preferably keeping you from pulling out all your hair out of frustration. It is not a good look.
Reality is also kind of boring. There are no unicorns in reality *gasp*...nor is there Santa *glass shattering*
I know, it's  hard to take it seriously, coming from a girl who still wishes for a Hogwart's letter (despite knowing that I'm obviously not eleven anymore), or a skinny man to show up with his TARDIS. It does not help that I address these letters to an imaginary friend who is French, on top of that.
Reality shouldn't always be stark. There should be a dichotomy (it's my new favourite word) between Reality and Fantasy.
What is our fantasy, need not be our reality, but what is our reality should be our fantasy.
Once again I have no idea what I just said. It sounded deep in my head.
So with that embarrassing closing line, I bid thee farewell for now.
Till the next time.
River Targaryen


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