I’ve always identified myself as a generalist, a jack-of-all-trades for some sort. I know a lot about many things, yet I barely master none of them. The only thing that I know I master is how I live my life in a main-character-esque sentiment, like I’m the main character of my own movie where the story only revolves around me, me, and me.
Little me had always liked to play pretend, and that’s one of the thing that I haven’t outgrown until now. The older me takes playing pretend to another extend, I do it every day now. Every time I commute to work, or to somewhere else, I pretend my life soundtrack playing in the background as I stare far into the streets or the scenery, with flashes of my past — or future, depends on my mood that day — reeled like a montage. Every time I walk around the city by myself, I pretend I will bump into someone and did my meet-cute scene where eventually they turned into the one (I actually hate this concept) and we lived happily ever after, but obviously that never happened.
One of the thing that I love by living this kind of sentiment is that it makes mundane, boring things have their own magic. Simple things I did in my life can feel like my own movie clichés, and the eventful things in my life can feel like my own movie climaxes. I haven’t reached my own movie endings, though I felt like some moment of my life felt like movie ending — but I refuse those moments to be the actual ending of course, they are just another chapter endings before my movie transitioned to another chapter.
Blame it on the cliché rom-com movies I used to watch as I grow up, I guess. They made think my life would be like one of those movies. I still don’t know whether it’s a good thing or not, though. Living my life as if I’m the main character has helped me to be aware of what I’m doing and made me more present to the current time. But at the same time, it made me even more hopeless . I consider myself as a natural-born hopeless romantic. So hopeless that sometimes I feel like I don’t get to hope at all now.
But of course living this kind of sentiment almost every day comes with a cost. Not often I get hurt, but when I’m hurt, I hurt so much like I was in a very sad drama movie. When I’m in that state, I felt like the movie heroine who lost grip on herself and her life because of some sort of inconvenience. I felt like I was approaching my downfall, the part where the heroine will eventually develop her villain backstory.
Romanticizing my sadness is another thing that I’ve mastered. I weirdly love being sad, but also I hate the state that I’m in when I’m sad — oh how I romanticize my love-hate relationship with sadness. I see sadness as a tragically beautiful thing, and I embrace being sad very much — by living the damsel in distress narrative in my head, thinking I was going to be saved by a love who come to save me.
It’s not always a good thing though, I admit it. And that’s another thing that I should master, not to dwell in my sadness too long.
But yet again, I am a master of romanticizing things, so what do you expect?
