Showtime screen

It’s like when the curtains are drawn, the room; a daze of dark and dim and the finale of FIFA world cup running. The refreshing thrill and electrifying performance dazzles you and a reverie of fantasy falls in.

A bucket full of diluted emotions splashes over me then. I have always been a fan of tv series. More of drama than anything else but gleefully open to all.
The tv plays and I watch. The gorge of gossip or the revulsion for revenge. All of it tempts me, mocks and solicits out as if I belong there. In one of their roles. Of course I always pluck out who it is. Yes, I’m the show fan. And have always been the girl of the tv. Romanticizing, visualizing, and conjuring up stories that I like to place myself into. So much that I even observed the repetition of wardrobe in different programs. Probably one step away from being a complete fanatic.

There is so much more to tv shows than just the story line. It’s the thrill, the connections between real life, analysis of our own years, the fashion, the morals, and the bloopers! Something to share with the screen, something else to relate to, or just be enthralled with. There is always a little to gain, however sense we make out of these glam shows. But of course the perfection is always enticing.

But this only lasts while the show does. My fancy is quiescent in real life. As the credits current up the screen, so does the reminder of real time, that is my world.