Fiction-Born Truths

Before you criticize, before you remark or comment, let me tell you something. I've pondered quite a bit about how much of myself I would dare to expose on this blog. On one hand, I could make myself vulnerable, reveal my true feelings and hidden thoughts to my peers; but to be honest, I feared and still fear the possibility of criticism. After all the ideas and beliefs that formulate my being are just as vital and fragile as the heart and organs that form my physical body. On the other hand,  I could carefully construct a barrier of tactfully placed words that both hide and shield my inner beliefs. Maybe, above all, I'm scared of being wrong, of sounding ridiculous or having absurd ideas that might give the impression of a crazy man.

But then again, what's the purpose of playing the safe card and repeating what's already been said; no one can disagree with common knowledge, but common knowledge won't impact the world. I believe the very act of normalizing absurd ideas that one may believe, or making the idea more moderate in itself is an act of deception. Thus, in order to stay true to myself, I've decided that I'm going to take a risk and speak the truth and verbalize my possibly ridiculous thoughts. If all of humanity's ideas were contained in a bubble, it takes these slightly unorthodox ideas to poke and prod the edges and make the bubble grow. Tomorrow's accepted idea might just encompass today's ridicule. So I'm going to take this risk: to be brave enough to sound ridiculous, to willingly accept mockery, to have the humility to be wrong. After all, it takes a deep understanding of faults of ideas and careful inspection of flaws in logic, to avoid the pitfalls moving forward, and to keep steady the focused vision of where I want to go.

A true story, or maybe with a touch of fiction...
If I were to go back in time and take a look at my freshman self, I'd see an awkward, insecure teenager trying to find his place in the world. At that time, I knew that I wasn't where I wanted to be, but I knew where I wanted to go. High school was the first time I became aware of the realities of life; life no longer consisted of looking forward to the next video game, hanging out with friends, and avoiding homework at all costs. I realized I was leaving the protective bubble of childhood, and I had to readily adapt to the new lifestyle.

And so, I began my habit of fictionalizing. I knew I lacked many qualities that I aspired to have, and it was far too hard to develop them without experience. I lied to myself. One day, I'd live as Bruce Lee, and carry myself with the utmost confidence; another day, I'd live as Vinh Giang and adopt his charisma and charm. Of course, none of the confidence or charisma came from myself, I was channeling Bruce's and Vinh's . I repeated my act of lying to myself until I could fully adopt the qualities without a model; at that point, those qualities became innate and a part of my character. I used fiction to adopt truth. I continued to fictionalize different qualities; I wasn't positive, so I imagined myself as Abe Lincoln, I wasn't composed, so I carried the image of the Dalai Lama.

Today, I still lie to myself. I remind myself every morning of the fictionalized version of myself, with all the qualities I wish to have. I give myself a name to live up to, a guiding image of who I want to be. I created a cohesive image to tie up all the loose ends of my character. I've realized in the past years that it's this utmost belief in myself that can catalyze a change in character. If I fully believed I a revolutionary thinker, I'd change the way I carry myself, I'd have a completely different self-image of who I am.


Here's the truth, it takes a lie to guide us towards our destination. Even in society, we use these fictionalized ideals as a model for the way we act. A world without violence, without hatred, and complete cooperation is without a doubt, unattainable-it only exists in fiction. Yet, we use this world as a compass to keep us on the right track. I heard somewhere a quote that shaped my thinking, "Perfection can never be achieved; it's not a destination, but a guiding star.".

“The thing about a story is that you dream it as you tell it, hoping that others might then dream along with you, and in this way memory and imagination and language combine to make spirits in the head. There is the illusion of aliveness.” (O'brien 220)

I think half of my real life story is still in my head.So maybe the boundary between truth and fiction isn't as distinctive as we once believed.