Dreamwalker's Tale

Hi. I’m Storyteller. We live in a weird world. One that seems to be cold, uncaring and tiresome on a regular basis. One where even a simple gesture, one which seems harmless enough on the surface, might get you into trouble. One where everything you see, everything you know, is just as real as you accept it to be.

I never considered myself special. Although — as everyone probably does at some point in their life — I always hoped that, someday, somehow, I might prove the opposite to myself and the rest of the world. There’s a saying about dreaming big. However, I have a hard time deciding if wanting to be special could be considered ‘dreaming big’. Is it? Is it not? For a couple of weeks, dreaming, waking, writing, I felt special.

It made me wish for something specific for the first time in a long while. It made me reconsider what I deem to be real, and how much I cared about what supposedly was real, and what was not.

I like to think of myself as an artist. I write because I feel a need to. Because I enjoy it. Because stories deserve respect, and want to be told. Stories are very much like people. They have personalities. They can change, evolve, be stubborn, get hurt, and heal. They never start and never end — we just start telling them, and stop telling them.

And with a desperate wish, I cling to my hope that by some miracle, what I want can be real.

This is my story.