A Streetcar Named Desire

Late nights, for me, are an occasional indulgence.
For some, late nights means long hauls on social media, or eyes glued to a book. Maybe there's a movie that they choose to watch during the moon's reign, or maybe a late night game makes sleep wait.
But I have none of them in my repertoire.
I am wired to call it a day by the time midnight strikes. Lights out, all tucked in. Wee Willie Winkie would've been proud had he extended his deadline!
That's me, all my life, seldom exempted. Yet, falling asleep quickly is hardly the norm.
We usually fall asleep and wade into the world of dreams. But I cannot control my dreams. They are elements of the subconscious which can perplex us. And thus, I'd prefer my imagination. For what I imagine, is under my control. The dreams aren't.
And so, while the world sleeps or work out their late nights, I prefer to lay in the darkness, close my eyes and open up the world of my imagination.
During these part-time insomniac sojourns, I tip-toe into this realm of mine. I call this journey, The Streetcar Named Desire. A touch of the dramatic, yes. I could never resist that. Of course it is a Vivan Leigh-Marlon Brando movie, that has nothing to do with what I wish to speak of. But you see here what is in a name, as it fits on the mantelpiece of my story. For this world of mine, is a world of desires. A literal City of Joy, though nothing like the City of Joy that I actually live in - Kolkata. Everything that is imperfect in life is in a state of perfection here.
In these moments, that I hop aboard the Streetcar named Desire. Here, there is a state of perfection unavailable in the original version. In short, this imaginary life isn't a mess. I picture life as I always have thought of it. A picturesque existence, a happy life. No negatives. No love lost, no dreams unfulfilled, nothing at all! I can drench in the rain with gay abandon and spend my nights under a sky full of stars. I can while the days idly, penning down the crossing my mind. Oh! What a respite are those moments..
The escapist in me breaks free, harrowed by the trials and tribulations of this life. There are no expectations to meet, and no targets to achieve. No one counts upon me, I count upon none. Thus there is no one that I shall disappoint and no one who shall disappoint me. It is all an ideal scenario. The heart leaps in a joy unknown in these moments of unrealism.
Slumber catches up eventually, and before you know it, life catches up. The make believe that provides a retreat, itself retreats into the distance; shelved, into some corner of the mind to remain unattended till the next night.
And so, that ends my adventure, on the Streetcar Named Desire.
That's all, folks.