Open tales. 
It has truly been a long time since I was here. Lying in my bed unable to sleep as my mind is shaken by the story I am currently immersing myself in, my thoughts once again wonder, bringing me back here once again.
A friend once asked me why I liked fictional stories so much. She said she didn't get the point of made-up stories. She despised them and saw no value in them.
I have to admit that it's partly because I lack depth. It's awefully true! I cannot appreciate "factual" books and nonfiction stories as much, as they more often than not bore me. There are exceptions, but these are rare. So I tried to understand myself better and I was glad to reach an answer. Although my answer has yet to change till today, even now, I am sure they will as I continue to grow.
Fictional stories that blow my mind away are, in my opinion, no less real than nonfiction ones. The emotions, the scenarios, and the intention behind the stories are as true as any nonfiction ones can be. Although the setting may not always be a believable or conceivable one, the characters, the development and the "human" nature portrayed enthralls me. From time to time, even the setting, however unbelievable at first glance, was made entirely agreeable through the course of the story. Sometimes, it is hard to believe that one might even find the storyline realistic given it's incredulous setting, but it happens. And when it does, before I know it, I am enchanted. This is truly a craft.
As I look back, I am also surprised to realise that such fictional stories have at times expanded my interests in fields that I have never explored, and offered me knowledge that I would otherwise have never known to seek out. Though of course that is usually not my motivation for reading fiction stories (for I would likely have jumped aboard the nonfiction ship for that matter), I am always thankful and glad when that happens.
It is always extremely exhilarating for me to hear of or read of great fictional stories and I absolutely love experiencing the situations and feelings of the characters in the story that I have never, and may have never, encountered were it not for the rich imagination, impactful experiences, genius minds, and/or the brilliant writing and story-telling of the story-teller. A tingling sensation runs through me when emotions and experiences resonate with my own, and the mere thought that someone out there felt and thought the way you did is just utterly amazing.
A great story always leaves me lonely, empty, and pondering at the end of it. What I think of each time is different, but every time I come across what I deem to be a great work, I've noticed that the piece leaves me wondering how the author conceived such a story. What went through the minds and hearts of these writers for them to spin such a wonderful story together? What elements and what experiences left such an impact on them for their work to birth? Why did they choose to leave their messages the way they did? What in the end was the author trying to achieve? It fascinates me to think of questions similar to this. Even though many of them are left unanswered, when one appears to be resolved (not necessarily the "correct" answer, but maybe the most convincing one), either through my own contemplation or from the discussion with others, I am absolutely overjoyed. When I think I'm closer to understanding the symbolism the author used, or the meaning behind their stories, I can't help but feel as if a spark was lit in me as the puzzle pieces connect. I must say these sensations are all rather addictive and hard to come by. It is this whole experience, in a wonderful package, that constitutes my true motivation and reason for being held captive to the world of fictional stories as the happiest and utmost blessed hostage.
Perhaps I am shallow and pathetic for being only capable of acquiring knowledge through means that interest me. Perhaps she might once again say that I am shrouded in my own delusions and averting my eyes from realities. Perhaps at times that is true. However, I have never once felt it wrong of me to choose to understand people, emotions, and their experiences through a veil, because sometimes I find the truest feelings of people that are hidden and embedded deep within them that they would otherwise have never expressed. These at times raw feelings that had no place of solace was able to find a home in these tales. And that is a gem to me, a treasure indeed.
Even now I do not fully understand why she disliked fictional stories. It seemed as if she found nonfiction and "factual" books more truthful in their information. But I sometimes wonder how can that be so? No man can be perfectly objective. As we live our lives, we consciously and subconsciously filter information and emotions through our subjective lenses, and our opinions and judgements are at times far from truths. We often think what we like to think, and that is a sin to ourselves and others that even as I write this, know I am committing, but feel helpless in correcting. Even the "factual" knowledge we know may not be true, be it in science or history or anything for that matter. While this does not mean that such knowledge is worthless (they are in fact very valuable and useful), it just means that it is unfair to dismiss fiction on such grounds. In fact, I find that both fiction and nonfiction have so much to offer, just with equal but differing values. I wonder if she feels differently now, given the years that have passed. But of course it doesn't really matter. To each its own tale.
I really ramble. Probably no one reads this till the end anyway. I am such a self-gratifying monster *chuckles*. Let's just say I am very thankful for my friend who asked me such deep questions that helped me reflect and understand myself more. I have found that I have come to love fictional stories and the experiences it brings me very much. Even after tasting the joy of nonfiction once in a while, I can never get enough of great fiction works. And that is something I have learnt to take pride in.
