Be Careful Of What You Daydream Of

When I was a young girl, school bored me to death, maybe because I could read and write by the time I was three -the curse of being a 'gifted' child- and when I got to the first grade and everyone else was laboring and panting and struggling with reading in my class, I was looking forward to go home to read  Dostoyevsky( true story). 

So school? 

Yeah, dead boring for me.

 Plus, every single student there seemed to not like me for being, you know ,me, gifted and know it all-I couldnt help that part, I swear- and therefore every fecking teacher's favorite which would be enough in itself to secure everybody's resentment of me ( except for a girl who did like me for me and became my best friend either because our star signs were a good fit, as she insisted or, more likely, because nobody liked her much either, for three reasons a/ she was from Athens, so an outcast naturally up here north b/ she was the teacher's daughter, so duh and c/ she had her hair in a bob which was considered extremely snobbish of her. But this is so another story).

But even that best friend had to move to Athens after a couple of years so I was left with nothing but my boredom in class. I tried to phantasize about my teacher whom I had a prepubescent crush on, (probably because he insisted I'd be a famour writer one day and he had already secured a dedication of my first book to him ) but even that wasnt powerful enough to save me from acute boredom in class.

So I did the obvious thing.

I started living in a phantasy world of my own.

Daydreaming to my heart's content.

I couldnt get enough of it. Making up entire scenarios during Maths class or elaborating on one hero's or another's character during Geography class. 

The funny part was, that despite my glazed expression as I was sitting there on the front row of desks, no teacher could ever catch me red-handed on being absent minded and off to my own private world, because the back of my mind was always paying attention , even when I wasnt, and as soon as the teacher asked me anything or I was told to repeat what he's been talking about, I could either provide the correct answer or quote them verbatim. Yeah, it was a handy trick. It never failed to confuse them, so after a while they learnt to ignore that glazed, lost-to-the-world expression on my face and left me to my own devices. And made up world.

Even long after I was out of a boring classroom, my habit of losing myself into a world of my own, never left me. Yes, of course as an adult too. Imagine me being in the early stages of labor in that cursed clinic I gave birth to my firstborn and in my mind reviewing an interesting twist in the plot of my latest story. Or talking to a hero in my head throughout a long trip to another town. Yeah, it never failed to provide comfort, I swear.

Now here comes the funny, interesting part:

Every single one of the things I made up as a story in my mind, especially the ones I phantasized about again and again, came true.

Every single one of them. No exceptions.

Some of them materialised much sooner than others.

But they all did. I swear.

I had this strange epiphany a few days ago when I was looking back on those childish phantasies and it hit me like a thunderstorm:

Every fecking thing I dreamt or phantasized of with enough intensity and passion has come true. Even and especially the ones I thought were too weird or  out there to ever become a reality.

Be careful of what you wish, it might come true on you?

More likely, be careful of what you daydream of.

You might end up making it your reality....