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Star Wars Daydreams -- creative nonfiction by Aidan Mozayeni

I wanted to be Anakin. I wanted Obi-Wan Kenobi to find me, just barely surviving in my desert hut. I wanted him to know I wanted to be a Jedi. I wanted him to test my blood and find that I had more midi-chlorians in my blood than Master Yoda. I wanted to fly away from dusty Tatooine on a sleek and slender silver Naboo Royal starship. I wanted to meet the love of life and tell her looked just like an angel. I wanted to escape to the beautiful, imperial world of Coruscant. I wanted to learn to be a Jedi. I wanted to be the savior of the entire galaxy.

I just knew it was out there. It was in a galaxy far, far away. And it may have happened a long time ago. But it was still there. I just knew it. I knew there were Jedi. I knew there was a world better than the one I was living in. A world I knew so well, but would never get to see. So I hoped. I hoped that Han Solo would fly over on the Millennium Falcon and take me to a bright, new galaxy. I believed in Star Wars.

I looked at the stars, sitting in a foldable chair in my backyard, enveloped by the omnipotent hum of the crickets, the occasional roar of a motorcycle or truck, muffled by the eerie effects of distance. They were mysterious, the stars. I knew that, up close, in person, there was so much more than just a speck of light. I knew that there were spaceships and robots and lightsabers. I knew that the light I saw was millions of years old. I knew that there was a desert planet with a bar where the Max Rebo band played a cantina. I knew there was bright color, giant oceans filled with the vibrant bubble habitats of Gungans. Every day was different. The world was prosperous and right and there was discovery. Each day you would meet someone new, see new worlds, try new foods, learn new things. In Star Wars, you had a reason, a purpose. There was passion and emotion and hopes and dreams. And there was love. And I was jealous of Luke because, when he looked out at the sky with his binoculars, he knew there was something more. I might never know.

I sat there. Caked in dried sweat. I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore. Or my toes. I hadn’t talked for hours. I just looked up at the ceiling and let the plastics of my computer’s speakers vibrate in just the right frequency to create voices that were almost indistinguishable from those of the real world. But if you paid attention, listened closely, you could hear the harsh metallic nature. The air conditioning was just below my feet. I shivered, my teeth chattering.

No, I didn’t want things to go back to normal. I wanted more. I dreamed of Coruscant. I dreamed of how, after I was found on Earth, like Grand Admiral Thrawn on Rentor of the unknown regions, I would meet the Ewoks and R2D2 and C3PO. I now realized that reality wasn’t enough for me. Exploring the whole world seemed so shallow. Because my whole world was bound to my basement, bedroom, and kitchen. And reality didn’t seem so magical anymore. So I wanted to see the entire universe. I wanted to escape. I wanted to be someone different.

I learned about the world I wanted to live in from YouTube videos with the sound off, my right pointer-finger on the left clicker of the mouse, ready to erase all evidence at any moment. I learned to forget about the painful, yet dull reality of my everyday existence. I learned that, sometimes it’s better to live in your mind, where you can be whoever you want and do what you please.

I wanted to be Anakin. Except, I wouldn’t turn to the dark side. Not because I’m good. Or because I didn’t have fear in my heart. But because I would know just how lucky I was. I would know that, despite everything, I was in Star Wars.


 

Aidan Mozayeni is a Sophomore at Weston High School. When not writing, he enjoys spending time with his friends and family, exploring mathematics, reading, and playing survival Minecraft. He first watched Star Wars, the original movie, when he was seven years old and ever since, has been enticed by the galaxy far, far away.

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