So That's Why I Call Myself a Dreamer
I love science. I am planning to become a computer scientist (and a good one, too). Ever since I remember have I been fascinated by science and technology: I have spent countless days immersed in books and articles, feeling a strange kind of joy as my understanding grew deeper. I dare say my knowledge of physics is quite good for a non-physicist, and I’m not that bad at astronomy and other natural sciences, too.
And yet, regardless of my deep respect and love for science, there is a part of me that sincerely believes one day a Gandalf-like guy will appear at my door, free me from this dull, grey reality and let me embark on an unexpected adventure. Each and every day I strive for a rational understanding of the world; and each and every night I dream of dragons, elves and heroes from fairy tales. I feel I belong there, into my fantasies, fighting evil and flying with dragons, being the master of my fate and living a life worth telling about; not here, into the world of the ordinary, of uniform days not worth remembering, of a life that no one will write (or read!) a story about…
One day I might flip and start chasing unicorns. Until then, I will at least make paper dragons so that I can stare at them as I fall asleep.
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