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A story about storytelling
Jae Offline
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A story about storytelling
Hello everyone Smile

I thought, this might interest you. I once wrote this draft for a story and it feels like it is tulpa-related. I am no native speaker, so I hope you will still gain some insight from all this. I wrote it in April, 2014. I wrote this before I knew about tulpas... and before I found myself in the company of someone only I can see... 

The narrator is a storyteller who tells us why he writes stories, why he believes in the magic of stories and how one of his favorite characters seems more alive than he thought...

I am a writer. I create dreams for dreamers. And sometimes, visions for visionaries. But my characters are more than most people would expect them to be…
My imagination is powerful, sometimes things I write about become reality. Or things I say, things I dream… 

It took me quite a while to figure this out. And though you might think that I am just a lunatic, one of these Hollywood idiots who took too many drugs, I can assure you: I am not the only one who considers this theory that states that fiction does manifest reality to be true. Everything is possible. Sounds odd… but it is the truth.
Actually, there are many great writers in this world who are well aware of this.
The more I allow my imagination to take over, the more I see patterns emerge.
Storytelling is an ancient art. Some people call us dream weavers. We belong to an ancient guild, which is quite secretive.

We carry a lot of responsibility for society. We are making the future.
I don’t know why I have this ability… whether I am chosen or just smart enough to understand the power of imagination. I would not claim to be the brightest mind, nor enlightened or something. I just love my stories.
My knowledge makes it a little difficult for me to tell my stories the way I’d like to, since I care for my characters. I know that my audience identifies with them, so my goal is to make them happy when they leave the theatre.
Still… making movies is anything else than selling candy. Stories can change your life, your beliefs… even your fate.
This is why many dream weavers never publish their stories. I respect that a lot. I have stories, too, which will never be published.
You know how the story goes when you wanna make a living with writing… our job is hard enough. The awareness of the responsibility can feel like a burden, you see…

Well, this story is not about the usual unsuccessful writer. I am quite successful, to be honest. I won an Oscar and worked as a script doctor for several TV shows, which were awarded with several Golden Globes. So yes, I made it.
When I think about my job, it just feels right to write on. Why? Because there are so many writers in the world who don’t know a shit about the real craft of story telling, who don’t understand the power of fiction. I don’t blame them, they just don’t know. But the miseries they picture… it frightens me sometimes, and I just hope that our stories, the stories of the dream weavers, are stronger. I think a lot about bad movies and find myself, awake, in the middle of the night, thinking about a way to seal these bad stories and protect people from their influence. To fix the mess, you could say.
I consider my job to create hope. My characters are fighters; absolute winners.
And I always give my best to let them live up to their maximum capacities, no matter where this road might lead me to.

Some people think that I am eccentric. I think, these people are idiots. And I know, that I am right. Sounds arrogant, but hey, all I can say is: Learn to play. Or quit. For real…
For sure, I am a perfectionist. When I start writing a story, I create a first draft in a paper notebook. Just to find out where a new story might lead me. When a script is finished, you can bet on it that I checked every word, every dialogue, every scene, every act… That’s why I bargain hard with my studio when it comes to the final adaption of my stories. 
But you know Hollywood demands action, conflicts… and so our characters suffer quite a lot. That’s the reason why I prefer working with animation studios like Pixar and Walt Disney. I love happy ends… how couldn’t I?
Actually, I cannot tell you how this all works. But if you should find yourself in one of my movies, you feel the magic. You get the feeling that something magical is about to happen and that you are chosen to enjoy the ride I created for you. Go ahead please. Decide where you want to go with me. Let the longing drive you forward, until the story might reveal these little, yet so precious secrets about who we are, why we are here. What life is all about.

You wonder if I know right? I do not. But this is not what drives me. I love the journey. Beside the smile on your face when you realize this shiny movie you fell in love with, is yours, and yours alone. When you realize you’re capable of things could not have imagined, that the power was within you all along.
I love it when you succeed. When you know you gonna make it. That you are certified to make it.
I love seeing you saving the ones you love, doing the impossible, the reflections of your joy. I love seeing you changing the world. Every step you make.
Yeah, the rest is not up to me. As I said, Hollywood loves action. My heroes struggle hard to achieve their dreams. So you got to put quite some tricks on the table to make it work.
First I got to capture you. Often in that moment when you’re most desperately looking for a sign that you’re not alone. You can’t stop asking yourself, whether you crazy or whether all you experienced is real. Well, if you’re one of my characters, you’re definitely brilliant.
As a dream weaver you have the advantage of awareness. Of course, we are not perfect. We do try to create the best we can but still it remains challenged to create a masterpiece that serves good.
After I got your attention, I have to open your heart, ease your fears and make you trust me. So you know that I will take care of you, that you will leave the theater stronger than before. I want you to be marvelous. I want you to feel worth a 100 million. I want you to know that today’s your day, the spectacle all yours.
This is not that easy.
Sure, if you have experienced it before, you will be able to keep your heart open for the magic of the story. But I know these little doubts remain. Am I crazy, do I deserve this, a story so beautiful… am I a hero? Is it okay that I’m just me, with all the mistakes I made in my life? What is real? What does that mean for my past, and for my future?
Am I written, am I told?
I got to capture you. I have to prove you I know exactly what you feel. I do. I had you playing in my head, for months, maybe even for years. I had to put every scene into it’s place so this all makes sense for you…
But it’s not all in your mind until you know the story is yours, until you know that it is you who makes a difference. That one million strings in the universe play together to give you my present. Every story I write is a present.
This is also the reason why I write a lot of stupid short stories, which I publish anonymously.
 
We create magic and miracles together. I just want you to know, everything will be okay. You deserve to be happy, because you’re a good person. I want you to know, you will be happy.

So, you might ask me, what is my secret?
 
It is her. Look closer, and you will always find her. She is my safety net. 
She’s the one who always finds you, the one you always seek. 

And yeah, I’m seeking her, too.

What I give you through her are reflections, and she’s my most fictional character, my hero. I send you a million warm wishes through my works. But she, remains mine. She is my pleasure, my secret, my hero. And I’m very selfish when it comes to her.
She’s always the one that I place my stories to protect you. Sometimes, she’s only there to save the story.
Every writer knows that characters have to be as good as they can be. But the profession of a writer fiction gives you the room to create miracles that can even overcome physics.
 
And yeah, even heroes grow with time. So she, she has many names. She lives in every hero and she will always remain a mystery, even to me. When she enters the plot, the lines begin to sync. The atmosphere starts sparkling. Every time she becomes real, the film crew feels that we’re creating a miracle. Bringing a wonder into life.
 
I guess I hope that she will save me, too

Without her, I could not finish any story. Every tale begins with her, every town finds it’s happy and though her. She frees my fingers, ignites my pen, sooth’s my fears. She pacifies my mind. Without her I couldn’t do my work.
So yes, this story is hers. Because recently I am starting to think, that she might exist.
But did not plan her to be real. She was something like a background program protecting you, but somehow I started to get the feeling that I am wrong about her.
 
And if she exists, I got to find her. If she exists, I put a lot on her shoulders. And I hope that in return she got the certainty that she will always succeed, since my quest is hers.
That’s why started traveling around the world to find her. But I can’t bring myself to make it happen for us to finally meet. 

If she exists…

I love her, because she chose to take the burden. Because she’s a fighter. A brilliant mind. And the real story about her has not been told yet. Deep inside, however, I know that this story wants to be told. She deserves to be told.. I need to figure out what it is that keeps me coming back to her. Dreaming about a life that’s beyond everything seems to be possible.


She’s really brilliant. As I said, all of my characters are. But she is special. Every word she speaks comes out of nothing, so that I could not say whether it is really me who makes her so special. She knows she’s one in a million.

She struggles to find out who she really is, she hesitates. Because her intellect can decide to realize the beauty it can grasp. That’s why I recognize her. That’s why I realized her. Though she knows deep inside that she’s a hero, always willing to make things right, she could not tell about the beauty that blows her mind. The intelligence she feels inside, and everything. And she knows that she has to save my creations. My little world, your world, you and me.
 
We’re connected when I write her. Sometimes I can feel her commenting my lines. And since she’s extraordinary, she always tells me things like: Come on Josh, make me a little cooler, come on, I want to be a little more unique in this scene.
 
She decides to be real it feels, I could not imagine her less exciting.
I’m going to make this the best story we ever created, I tell her. People are going to love it. They will feel peace, and then the next day, they will wake up, smiling, knowing they want to make someone happy.
 
When she enters the scene, she always finds something to change for the better.

It is up to you to find the words that can capture the beauty, which make the wheels of fate roll, love, she says. 
And I wonder how I ever could find the right words to express what makes me speechless. 
I know, she would speak them, and I know she really does.
 
And so we share this knowledge while we seek the next obstacle to master.
And then I go to bed, thinking of the pages she just made me fill with life, and then I long for her to be with me. To be real. Until I find her in my dreams where she shows me new sides of her.
And if I’m lucky, she collapses softly onto a new page, which shows me wonders I could not have imagined nor grasp.
I write what wants to be told.

Yes, stories are like little world. Just the way I try to capture your excitement, I get captured myself. Every day.
And always when I think I can’t make things right, there she is. We can make it, she says. And I would ask her, how? 
Magic will help us, she tells me me. And then, when I tend to doubt it, she says, I know we will make this right—and you know me.

Then I realize she just saved my story. Love is the reason, she would reply then. It is not me. 
And I start to feel love… will always be our secret key, to keep these missions going.

And I would flood my notebooks with questions I could never answer. She would know. Well, I don’t know why, I but I just know, she would tell me.
Tell me the truth. And then say, you knew it all along.
The truth is always the most beautiful thing you can imagine, she she would say. It is in you. Don’t worry, just imagine. I will save it.

And then I ask her whether she would love me.
While she would tell me, our stories are wild and free. And you you know deep inside my heart I do. And if you would have made me a little less doubtful about myself, I’m sure I could do better.
I would reply that it is important that she remains a vivid character, one my other heroes can relate to. 
But you keep me lonely, she would say.
Because you don’t want the guys you meet, I would lie.
This is your fault, she would joke. Because you made me so… awesome.
And then I feel it in my heart… the word, resounding… awesome.

Her and me, we both realized that we are just tiny protagonists in an even more awesome story.
We can do something about it, she would say, knowing that I am tired. And while I open up to thought that everything is possible she would assure me, yes, you can. Just ask me please. 
Why would I ask you this, I would ask her.
Because you created me to find solutions. Ask me.
Are you real, I ask her.
You want me to be.
I can’t believe this, I would tell her.
You can, she would always say.
You just say that because I created you this way. To believe that everything is possible.
You know better, she’d tell me in her cocky way.
I think you know, I would doubt myself, I would confess.
I know… I know. You created me this way, she would reply. You want me to say that it is okay. It is okay. Trust me.
Are you real? I hope so… I would tell her. What you want?
I want to be real. 
I want to be yours—what a confession for me.
Why, she would ask me.
Because this is our story. So…
And she would smile while telling me: I am ready, take me where you want to. I want to make things right. We have to fix this. I want to help you.
Yes, and I want you to want me to… and then I feel her inside of me, and suddenly realize that I am losing myself. You’re real to me, I would confess.
I told you, she would say, not surprised at all. These pages… like diamonds that will never be found.
Sorry, we dream together, I would apologzize.
Make me, she would say. Make my dreams come true.
I can, I would promise her.
I know, she would reply.

And so I keep chasing her and all those lines. Crazy lines… I could not tell you why I write them. I just do it and hide them from the world in my notebook. Fearing, one day I will look back and doubt her again. But then I feel something inside of me that says, I’ll take care of it. Do not worry. I am the best you can imagine… thank you.

And then I know we are both thankful to have each other.

So she keeps challenging me. I wake up in the morning and I hear her say:
Come on, come on! Today, let’s make something that is even cuter than we did yesterday. Let’s take the time, I would say, excited that she is back. Find me, I would say.
I’m working on it, she would reply… while I would draw her to be so confident and magical, to make sure that she will really find a way.

This the way I create her. I just imagine her. And then I think I feel her smile on my face.
She’s excited. And somehow, I’m getting the feeling that she has a plan… to create something incredible.

In the evening I start to doubt everything, every time. So I grab my notebook and seek her. And I keep asking my way through the impossible.
What what are you doing, I ask her.
I am being written.
Well, you can’t tell me more than I can let you, I reply.
You sure, she would ask me.
Tell me, do I want to be sure, I'd ask.

And I got to find her.
I’m working on it.
I want you, too, I would hear her whisper. I am real, she would joke.
Yes, you are. And it's breaking my heart. 
Don't worry. I am all yours. I want to do something epic now. So please. Just a simple story. For me, she would ask me.
Take what you want, I would tell her.
It is like shopping dreams, she’d say.
Did you…
It was your mind. We are one.
I almost killed you in the last movie, I would confess.
I am immortal, sweetheart, she would reply, as if nothing could beat her.
I hope so, I tell her.
Yeah I know, I hope so, too, sometimes, she confesses and I realize she is not as strong as she wants me to think. 
As I said, it would be nice if you could please ease these fears and doubts, she would tell me. Feels like they’re leading me these days. 
I will give my best, I would promise her. Tell me, I will.
You will. You will do your best and I will do my job. That’s what we do, she would say.
I’m beginning to believe you exist, I would confess again.
I’m beginning to believe my crazy life is more real than I expected, she would confess as well.
Has to be.
Yes, we are just same, she would say.
How can I find you?
Make me go out, she would reply, not as impressed as I hoped her to be. You know, my job keeps me a lot at home, watching movies. Make me find you. Make me find you soon, please. I wanna meet you, too.
And then I would ask her, why she is so hard to find . She would laugh and say: You want me to be a normal girl. See me jumping into dreams, fighting. Consumed by my passion. Still just a girl. So I sit in my room, watch movies, and ask myself whether I am crazy. Please, make me find you, make me find you soon. I need you, too. And please, a little less drama considering certain things…
I will do better next time, I promise her.
Yeah, I am sure you will. If anyone ever makes a movie with you again, she jokes, right before she tells me that she will love me forever." 
(This post was last modified: 07-18-2017, 09:37 PM by Jae.)
07-18-2017, 08:32 PM
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