Did you ever wonder why do we get so attracted to the movie characters and the actors who play the role? I’m not talking about the storytelling moves, or that only the prettiest human beings become actors — when I go in my hometown subway, I see faces just as beautiful.

I imagine the amount of work that writers and actors perform to make us feel feelings. But I believe it’s not about them. It’s about us.

How we look at the face of the lead character is how we would look at a lover, or our own child, or the dearest friend: for hours straight, catching every shadow of emotion, every little move— rebel hair tucked behind the ear, one-side smile, flinches, sneezes, laugh. It’s reverse engineering — they become adorable as they consume our attention.

What poor real people have to do to get any close to this? Where is the voice-over, narrating heroic destiny of that dude in a train? Where is the costume design that would explain the complex soul of your colleague? Where is this witty dialog script that could break in between your worries about the deadline?

When we come, we are ready to give up our life for a couple of hours. We are ready to switch the lights off, forget ourselves and get invested in the story.

What if it’s the only difference?

What if there’s hidden drama everywhere, and your constant inner dialogue is the only thing that prevents you from seeing it? And you just need to switch the light off?

What if everything is a movie?

Stories from another hemisphere, written under a stripper pen name and in a second language. Because God forbid we make things easier for us.

Stories from another hemisphere, written under a stripper pen name and in a second language. Because God forbid we make things easier for us.