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“Daydream Believer” (Not Really a Repost)

Posted by purplemary54 on September 1, 2013

Confession time.  I am a daydream believer.  (Wow.  I know that’s a really big shocker for y’all, but try to stay with me here.)  I’m the one who sits around imagining and fantasizing about all sorts of things–money, love, new furniture, what have you–and actually believes it might come true.  I “hide ‘neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings.”

Well, maybe “believe” is a bit too strong of a word.  Sure, when I was younger, I really did believe I was gonna marry a rock star.  (Bono, if you must know.  Yeah, yeah, I know he’s very happily married already.  That was just a technicality to my overactive, hormone-addled imagination.  We were destined to be together, I just knew it.)  Every angsty poem I wrote would be the greatest thing ever published.  I’ve won the lottery and the Publisher’s Clearinghouse sweepstakes so many times in my mind, I could wipe out the national debt if it were really my money.  Every penny I picked up really would bring me good luck.  (That one’s sort of true, in the sense that I usually end up making about five bucks in loose change I pick up every calendar year.  And yes, I do keep track.)  For a pretty significant portion of my teens and twenties, fairy tales and soap operas were nonfiction as far as I was concerned.

I scoff at all this now, publicly at least.  There’s still a little part of me that lives in that fantasy world, that really kind of believes that this time, things will turn out the way I imagine they will.  Of course, they never do, and I’m always just a little bit disappointed.  But hope is indeed eternal.  I’m sort of like Tim Tebow in that respect; I still think that one fantastic movie-style moment is actually going to happen, even when I know damn well it won’t.  Movie moments happen in the movies because they don’t happen in real life, but romantics like me need to see them.

Confessing to all this gooey, adolescent daydreaming is kind of embarrassing for me.  I like to present myself as a cynic, far more worldly than I really am.  But it’s cathartic, too.  Because it feels good to let that particular cat out of the bag, to know that what might be my most embarrassing secret is out there for all to read.  And besides, there’s always a chance something amazing could happen.  After all, even the losers get lucky sometimes.

But that’s another song.

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2 Responses to ““Daydream Believer” (Not Really a Repost)”

  1. 45spin said

    We are what we dream.

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