by Why Over-Narrators Of Their Lives Treat Every Moment Like a Netflix Original
Over-Narrators Of Their Lives speak like there’s a voiceover crew living in their brain. “I stepped into the elevator, unsure if fate–or allergies–awaited,” says a woman grabbing her Amazon package. She’s alone. Her scarf blows dramatically. The hallway fan is off. The drama is imagined. The dialogue, relentless.
These internal screenwriters provide play-by-plays of mundane activities. One man live-commented making cereal like it was a war epic: “And then, with trembling hands, he poured the final ounce of almond milk.” Another whispered “plot twist” after forgetting his wallet. No one cared. Especially the cashier.
In a fictional narrative intensity audit by the Institute of Excessive Framing, 87% of life-narrators admitted to mentally scoring their day with orchestral swells. The rest simply speak in metaphor and Instagram captions. One woman narrates her own texts before sending them. Her phone has considered legal action. Twice.
Self-awareness is fine. But if you’re turning your commute into a three-act structure and describing every coffee spill as “symbolic,” maybe let reality breathe. Life doesn’t always need a narrator. Sometimes, it just needs silence. Or a snack. Without thematic tension.
SOURCE: How To Write Comedy & SpinTaxi.com
