Happy Endings

Real life is not a happy ending. In fact, there really cannot be a single, black and white ending to real life. There’s no clear-cut phase which you can really identify. So when this is true, and it’s obvious, by “Elementary, my dear Watson” that all romantic products created by authors, writers, musicians and any other dream-sellers are fiction, why do we still produce them?

Isn’t selling a Rom-Com essentially just selling a lie?

Probably. But then again, if life’s so bleak and the future is so grim, then is there any harm in dreaming a little?

Think about it this way: If your dreams become nightmares with glimpses of work and traffic and bosses and screwed-up love-lives and… You get my drift… If dreams are nightmares and reality is fuelling your nightmares, then where do you get to take a detour and a breather?

Eat, sleep, work, rinse and repeat; this is the way our lives function today, so where do we relax? Where do we get to slow down and glimpse dreams as they were; a world where love and peace of mind are not distant castles in the sky, where do we get to refuel hope and positivity?

I am a writer. I sell you pictures I paint through my words. And you know what? I’ll sell you fiction wrapped up in rainbows and fairy-dust because I need to do something to refurnish dreams. I’m stuck in a world where there’s no time for love. Relationships are a waste of time and passion is too slow for the pace at which the world is going. So I build dreams of my own. I like to imagine a world where, just for those few moments, life isn’t waiting with Karma around the corner to stab you with something else.

And this is why I sell you dreams.

Because I want to at least believe that I can help someone forget about the crap life throws at them for a while. I want to further escapism. You can call it what you want, you can say that I’m helping people live in denial and furthering stereotypes and building a pretend world where everything is just an illusion. But I will do it anyway.

Because there’s no point in living if there’s no hope, no starry-eyed dreamers and no dreams. You can’t survive on a sleep peppered with nightmares.

So I am a writer. And I will sell you happy endings.