Mind games

This weekend something odd happened. I mean, it's not the first time it's happened, but it was the first time I actually noticed it.

I was sitting in the car with my Dad, driving on the highway when this big truck pulled up in front of us. On the backside it said 'Stal De Kluis'. My mind instantly translated the words to English, forming 'Stole the safe'. Of course, if I had translated it properly, it would've said 'Stables The Safe', but that's not the point here.

The point is that as soon as those three words flashed across my eyes, I had to grab my iPhone and write them down. But not only did I write them down, I began to form an entire story upon them. It's a poor excuse, me just telling you about is, so rather than trying to explain the very firmaments of my mind, I'll just retype what I wrote on my phone:

"He stole the safe because inside lay the key to unravelling all that he was. He knew in his heart that these four walls could never have contained him. He knew that someday, he'd have to break them down and push further outwards, to the city. The provincial life seemed completely wasted on him. He wanted it all. Bigger and better. One day, he thought to himself, one day. So if anybody saw its contents, his secret would be out. The life he had worked so hard to build up, would come crashing down all around him. The fancy apartment, the art collection and every single person who allowed himself to get pulled into his lie would finally see him for who he really was."

This made me realize just how set my mind was on being a writer. I don't know about you, but in my opinion, you'd have to have some sort of preference towards writing if this is what pops into your head when you look at the back of a truck. When I was a kid, I used to write these little stories all the time, thinking this was just the externalisation of a child's imagination. As I got older, the writing subsided, but I started to read a lot. Maybe somewhere over the past few years, my mind has turned a switch somewhere, from reader to writer. I don't know if I'll ever be any good or if I'll even make it to getting published. Then again, I don't think anyone who has a dream profession can know for sure that they'll be good at it. It's one thing to love what you're doing, it's another to get people to love it too.