I love putting on my headphones. Life becomes cinematic.
I’m alone with my thoughts and my own soundtrack. Whether it’s the front seat of a taxi in Beijing with the bright sun on my face, or the MRT ride home during rush hour, I get to be free in my own world.
These moments in transit give me the luxury of being a complete introvert, staring out the window — just me, my music, and my thoughts.
And these are not deep thoughts. Most of them are stupid, silly ones. What would I do if I had a superpower? What kind of superpower would it be? What would I do if I won the lottery?
The kind of things 8-year-olds think about.
And if you’re wondering what I’d do if I won the lottery, the answer is simple: fake my own death.
So if you ever hear about my demise but years later think you saw my doppelgänger in Bali living as a beach bum — there’s a 100% chance that’s me.
My imagination was a refuge where I tried to find my identity during those formative years. I’d spend hours wondering what would happen if I could travel back in time — like the Terminator — to ancient dynastic eras and slowly take over the world. Or if I could rip guitar solos like Kirk Hammett, what my stage performance would look like.
As an adult, daydreaming can be dangerous. You’re often labeled unfocused, immature, or sometimes just plain weird.
At my age, I’m much more comfortable in my own skin. I’ll shrug off most labels now. I’ll admit some of them still sting, but they don’t linger the way they used to.
At my age, I don’t have much time to daydream. Between work, the gym, cooking, and laundry, time is precious. I no longer have that luxury. Even during transit now, I’m listening to podcasts or reading the news, trying to keep up with worldly affairs.
At my age, I can’t afford to lose my focus.
Justin loves going to the playground after school every day. It’s his way of delaying going home, where homework is waiting.
There are three girls at the playground who like to gang up on him. They say mean things and exclude him from their games. Justin, however, seems oblivious. He just does his own thing.
One day, one of the girls walked up to Barb and said, “Justin is weird.”
Things like that don’t seem to bother him. Justin often lives in his own world.
Watching him sometimes reminds me of how easy it is to choose the world inside your own head over the one everyone else insists you live in.
In what may be the greatest steak scene in cinema history, Cypher from The Matrix says:
“I know this steak doesn’t exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize? Ignorance is bliss.”
Ralph Cifaretto eats a steak
Joey Pants willfully chose the Matrix — a fake simulation filled with comfort — instead of facing the truth and its harsh realities.
That girl at the playground was trying to pull Justin into the real world, one where she and her friends had the upper hand. But Justin chose to remain in his own realm.
Most audiences cast Cypher as the villain in The Matrix, but the irony is how many of us would probably make the same choice — choosing blissful ignorance over uncomfortable reality.
And instead of eating grey, bland slop on the Nebuchadnezzar, we get to eat a glorious steak in a high-end steakhouse. And boy, what a steak that was. I can’t think of a movie or TV show that has ever made me want to eat a steak more than that scene.
Maybe that’s the thing about daydreamers. Sometimes imagination just makes the real world taste better.
Here’s to the daydreamers.
I made steak and eggs for breakfast with Justin the other day. He was surprised — steak is usually dinner food.
I told him about having steak and eggs in New York City, about those early morning diner breakfasts. There was this 24-hour place near NYU called Around the Clock.
I couldn’t afford good steaks back then, so I would drown them in A1 sauce.
A tradition Justin has since taken on.
I love these steakhouse plates, taobao is undefeated