This blog is a collection of a young woman's random thoughts, many tangents, and occasional
short stories and novel excerpts. Stay tuned for plenty of bull and brief moments of brilliance.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

All the World's a Stage.

Since I was young I saw my life as a movie. Upon reflection, it was probably a defense mechanism to alter my reality into a fantastical world where the hero always wins and someone gets fucked. Good triumphs over evil. Light conquers the darkness. Those years when I was in that web of deception, abuse, and utter confusion were partially shielded from my consciousness by my creativity.

Yes, I have been told countless times that I'm a creative person, but it's a compliment that many do not take seriously. Recently someone told me I have an "incredibly vivid imagination" (the context it was in is not important at the moment...) and teachers have never been lacking in their praise for my ability to spin a bullshit tale. The significance of this imagination of mine--besides the fact that I'm hoping it will help me realize my dreams and support me (to some degree) financially--was not known to me until earlier this summer when I was driving through Whitefish Bay.

My hometown has the nickname of "Tree City USA" and though I have a feeling that it bestowed this title upon itself in its own pretentiousness, there is a tree every couple feet. On some streets the trees are thicker and higher, and others they are more spread out. My favorite streets though are the ones that have trees with long, wispy branches that bend toward the road creating a canopy above your head.

On this one street in the village, when you come up over a moderately sized hill, the sun shines through the leaves perfectly. As you drive down the street, the leaves and branches seem to pull back, revealing the next tree behind it. The leaves continue like this until you reach my house and the trees are all standing relatively straight.

To the average person, this would be any other obnoxiously manicured avenue in my town, but I see something different. I see fans. They're large, extravagant, feather fans pulling away faster and faster to reveal the main event on the stage. It makes me feel like I'm a Broadway star about to have her first moment in the spotlight, or any star having a huge breakthrough. There's this magic in those branches and the nature-produced stage.

I frequently have a soundtrack going for my life and think of songs that would work perfectly with any moment. Many, especially my sister, tell me how cliche I can be when it comes to sentiments. Singing to my mirror can go on for hours and when I'm alone, I constantly talk to myself.

My life is a movie but as I've gotten older, I've learned that the movie doesn't always end the way you want. Sometimes, the music slows as the romantic lead walks away dramatically. Other times, everything stops and the main character falls to her knees in silent hysterics. And other times still, the audience checks their phones wondering why certain scenes are taking so goddamn long.

The thing is though, I'm okay with my life being a bit of reality and fantasy. The story doesn't end after 130 minutes and there are no credits...yet. My movie, play, musical of the century is still going strong. I love that I sometimes see the world through rose-colored glasses, because so much of the time I focus on the shit surrounding me.

It's a pretty good show so far if I do say so myself: great secondary characters, moving music, compelling plot, plenty of wit and humor, shocking (yet slightly predictable) twists along the journey, and of course a charismatic protagonist.

Damn, it would cost a hell of a lot more than $14 for that in 3-D.

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