Yes, I am a very lazy person. I love lying in my bed and not doing anything physical while my mind wanders off. Then I daydream. Or I fall a sleep and dream an ordinary dream. Ordinary, since my writing skills fail me. No dream is ever ordinary.
I am not as fond of dreaming as I am of daydreaming, I have to admit. That is because I hardly ever remember my dreams and when I do remember aspects of my dream, they usually only get me confused. And life is confusing enough without the dream confusion, isn't it?
Sometimes though, sometimes I dream a story. It has not happened to me much, in fact it is quite rare for me. I love to wake up though and have a story in my head. And the first few days after my dream, the story seems great!
But then reality starts pulling me back. Reality does that to me. Creativity seems to have a much lesser grip on me than I would want it too, and so does optimism. I start losing the appreciation for my story. Or perhaps I don't lose appreciation, but I lose faith in it. I might like it, but what about the rest of the world? I am, unfortunately, that kind of person that enjoys art the most when I get to share it with others and if others do not like it, it is not nearly as much fun to share art.
I suppose I do not count as an original or creative artist. That doesn't make me like drawing or writing or doing another form of art any less.
It doesn't matter. I do not dream of being a great artist.
I dream of stories.